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LIBRARY 


ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE 


ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE 


BY 

M.  IMLAY  TAYLOR 


SECOND    EDITION. 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG  AND   COMPANY 
1897 


COPYRIGHT 

BY  A.  C.  MCCLURG  AND  CO. 
A.D.  1896. 


All  rights  reserved. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I.  THE  RABBLE  ELECT  A  CZAR    ....  7 

II.  MADEMOISELLE'S  GLOVE 22 

III.  THE  STORY  OF  CAIN 33 

IV.  THE  SHADOWS  ON  THE  WALL      ...  47 
V.  ZENA'IDE 56 

VI.  A  KITCHEN  FEUD 67 

VII.  A  CZAR'S  FUNERAL 79 

VIII.  THE  ASSASSIN 91 

IX.  SOPHIA  ALEXEIEVNA 103 

X.  THE  PACKET 115 

XI.  THE  RESCUE 127 

XII.  PRAVEZH 140 

XIII.  PRINCE  BASIL  GALITSYN 151 

XIV.  MADEMOISELLE  EUDOXIE'S  WINDOW     .  161 
XV.  THE  FLIGHT 174 

XVI.  THE  AUDIENCE-CHAMBER 187 

XVII.  THE  SECRET  STAIRCASE 199 

XVIII.  FEODOR  SERGHEIEVITCH  RAMODANOFSKY  212 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PACK 

XIX.  POLOTSKY 223 

XX.  A  FRIENDLY  CUP 235 

XXI.  THE  PRISONER 246 

XXII.  BAFFLED 258 

XXIII.  HOMYAK 269 

XXIV.  THE  RED  STAIRCASE 285 

XXV.  IN  THE  FACE  OF  DEATH 294 

XXVI.  LOVE  AND  FIRE 308 

XXVII.  MICHAEL'S  REVENGE 318 

XXVIII.  MADAME  VON  GADEN 330 

XXIX.  A  DESPERATE  DEFENSE 340 

XXX.  A  SOLEMN  BETROTHAL 346 


ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE  RABBLE  ELECT  A  CZAR. 

THE  Patriarch  Joachim  was  standing  on  the 
balcony,  in  front  of  the  Church  of  the  Savior, 
looking  down  upon  the  dense  mass  of  people 
below  in  the  Grand  Square  of  the  Kremlin  at 
Moscow.  A  purpose  was  pulsing  in  the  keen 
face,  and  he  was  measuring  his  audience,  weigh- 
ing too,  perhaps,  the  peril  and  the  cost.  They 
were  still ;  every  eye  was  fixed  on  the  tall  figure 
in  the  magnificent  pontificals  of  the  Greek 
Church;  every  ear  strained  to  catch  his  first 
word.  It  was  the  climax  of  the  day,  the  chief 
act  in  the  great  drama.  He  raised  his  hand,  with 
a  majestic  gesture,  over  the  people. 

"  Hear  ye,  voters  of  the  Moscovite  State,"  he 
cried,  in  a  loud  voice,  "  to  which  of  the  two 
princes  do  you  give  the  rule?" 


IO  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

I  could  not  restrain  a  smile.  I  had  been  long 
enough  about  the  Russian  court  to  know  how 

O 

fierce  was  the  undercurrent,  how  intense  the 
resentment  felt  against  the  family  of  the  dowager 
czarina. 

An  old  Russian,  who  had  stepped  back  with 
me  out  of  the  path  of  the  crowd,  suddenly 
addressed  me. 

"A  short-lived  triumph!"  he  muttered,  in  a 
gruff  tone.  "  It  is  one  shout  to-day,  another 
to-morrow.  Here  is  only  the  rabble  of 
Moscow!" 

I  looked  at  the  man  in  surprise;  it  required 
courage  to  express  an  opinion  in  the  open  air, 
and  to  a  stranger.  He  had  the  bearing  of  a 
soldier,  and  there  was  an  ugly  scar  on  his 
cheek.  His  long  cloak  slipping  aside  a  trifle, 
I  saw  the  uniform  of  the  Streltsi,  and  caught 
my  breath;  a  trivial  remark  from  one  of  that 
body  might  be  significant.  Russia,  at  that 
time,  had  no  army,  only  a  few  troops  officered 
by  foreigners,  and  the  peasantry  brought  into 
service,  in  time  of  war,  under  the  command  of 
the  feudal  chiefs.  The  Streltsi  therefore  occu- 
pied a  peculiar  position;  they  constituted  a 
national  guard,  consisting  of  twenty-two  regi- 
ments, about  a  thousand  men  in  each  regiment, 
named  after  their  officers,  who  were  always 


THE  RABBLE  ELECT  A    CZAR.  \  I 

Russians.  The  Streltsi  had  quarters  set  apart 
for  them,  and  their  own  shops,  being  tradesmen 
when  off  duty,  and  were  exempt  from  taxation. 
The  service  was  hereditary,  a  son  entering  the 
father's  regiment  as  soon  as  he  was  of  age. 
The  root  of  much  discontent  was  the  difficulty 
with  their  own  officers,  whom  they  charged 
with  the  misappropriation  of  a  portion  of  their 
pay  and  interference  with  their  civil  occupa- 
tions,—  their  privilege  to  trade  being  espe- 
cially dear  to  them.  They  had  always  enjoyed 
such  peculiar  liberties  that  they  fretted  under 
injustices,  some  real  and  some  fancied,  and  all 
no  doubt  deeply  colored  by  the  bitterness  of  the 
political  situation,  and  the  fact  that  their  peti- 
tions for  redress  had  been  treated  with  contempt 
before  the  Czar  Feeder's  death;  but  now  they 
were  strong  enough  to  be  courted  by  both  par- 
ties, and  I  was  interested  at  once  in  my 
companion. 

"I  am  a  stranger  here,"  I  said,  purposing  to 
draw  him  out,  "and  know  little  of  these 
matters." 

He  turned  a  keen  glance  on  me,  seeming  to 
search  my  face. 

"You  are  a  Frenchman,"  he  said,  addressing 
me  in  excellent  French,  which  was  the  more 
astonishing  because  so  unusual,  especially  in 


12  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

his  rank  in  life.  Without  waiting  for  my  reply, 
he  directed  my  attention  to  the  balcony.  "  The 
patriarch  is  going  to  bear  the  glad  tidings  to  the 
Czarina  Natalia,"  he  remarked  grimly,  "and, 
I  presume,  to  anoint  the  young  czarevitch1 
with  all  haste ;  but  it  takes  more  than  holy  oil 
to  make  an  emperor  in  these  days. " 

We  were  less  pressed  now,  for  the  crowd 
was  surging  away  towards  the  palace,  shouting 
as  it  went.  I  examined  my  new  acquaintance 
with  curiosity.  If  his  face  had  been  less  rugged 
and  fierce  it  would  have  been  handsome  on 
the  side  that  had  escaped  the  disfiguring  scar. 
It  was  a  remarkable  face :  a  keen  eye,  a  large 
straight  nose,  a  strong  mouth,  and  an  expression 
of  relentless  resolution,  —  a  face  that  had  had  a 
past  as  dark,  as  cold,  as  grim  as  that  close-shut 
mouth.  My  curiosity  was  excited. 

"A  regent  will  have  to  be  appointed,"  I  re- 
marked, "during  the  minority  of  the  czar." 

He  smiled  grimly.  "And  who  do  you  sup- 
pose it  will  be  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  keen  glance. 

"Custom  points  to  the  czarina,"  I  replied 
with  a  little  hesitation. 

"And  the  Chancellor  Matveief,"  he  added. 

I  assumed  surprise. 

1  The  czar's  son  and  heir.  So  also,  Alexeivitch  is  the  son 
of  Alexis. 


THE  RABBLE  ELECT  A    CZAR.  13 

"  Matveief  is  an  exile,"  I  exclaimed  hastily. 

The  Russian  laughed.  "The  czarina  is  his 
dutiful  and  indebted  ward,"  he  said.  "He  is 
no  longer  in  Archangel  but  at  Lukh,  and  a 
summons  can  reach  him  the  easier.  When  a 
guardian  has  set  you  on  a  throne,  you  cannot  be 
ungrateful.  Why,  man,  where  are  your  senses  ? 
What  is  all  this  shouting  about?  It  is  the 
Nary shk ins.  I  forget,  though,  you  are  a  for- 
eigner." 

"A  poor  gentleman,"  I  said  at  once;  "a  sol- 
dier of  the  king  of  France. " 

The  Russian's  glance  was  following  the 
crowd;  whatever  his  thoughts,  they  were  not 
pleasant,  for  his  expression  was  gloomy  and 
cynical. 

"  You  have  witnessed  a  singular  event  in  our 
history,"  he  said  sternly;  "you  have  seen  the 
Moscovite  rabble  elect  a  czar.  The  younger 
son  setting  aside  the  first-born !  " 

"The  Czarevitch  Ivan  is  said  to  be  indiffer- 
ent to  the  high  office,"  I  replied,  in  a  low  tone; 
"he  is  blind." 

"  Ay,  and  deformed ! "  said  the  Russian, 
promptly.  "Yet  will  the  people  of  Russia  de- 
mand the  recognition  of  primogeniture.  Court 
intrigues  cannot  prevail.  What  a  flimsy  pre- 
text was  this  election !  The  States-General  of 


14  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

Russia  elected  Michael  Romanof;  the  Czar 
Shuisky  fell  because  he  was  elected  by  Moscow 
alone;  and  this  is  not  the  Moscovite  State,  but 
the  rabble  of  the  city,  and  the  retainers  of  the 
boyars!1  The  Miloslavskys  are  down  to-day, 
but  who  dares  to  predict  for  to-morrow? " 

It  was  indeed  a  difficult  problem,  so  bitter 
was  the  quarrel.  The  Miloslavskys  were  the 
relatives  of  the  first  wife  of  the  Czar  Alexis, 
the  Naryshkins  of  his  second;  and,  that  day, 
the  latter  had  succeeded  in  electing  their  can- 
didate for  the  throne,  Alexis'  youngest  son 
Peter,  setting  aside  Ivan,  his  half  brother,  and 
the  only  surviving  son  of  Alexis  by  his  first 
wife,  the  Princess  Marie  Miloslavsky. 

I  was  endeavoring  to  place  my  companion ; 
that  he  was  well  born,  I  could  not  doubt ;  at  the 
same  time,  he  was  evidently  not  an  officer.  I 
seemed  to  have  seen  his  face  before,  and  won- 
dered if  he  could  have  been  in  attendance  on 
Prince  Dolgoruky,  the  Chief  of  the  Department 
of  the  Streltsi.  The  ugly  scar,  which  drew  the 
right  side  of  his  face,  seemed  to  make  identifi- 
cation infallible;  yet,  it  was  that  scar  that 
baffled  me,  for  I  could  not  remember  having 

1  An  aristocratic  order,  next  to  the  ruling  princes.  They 
held  the  highest  military  and  civil  offices.  The  title  "  boyar  " 
was  bestowed  by  the  czar,  and  was  not  hereditary. 


THE  RABBLE  ELECT  A    CZAR.  1 5 

seen  it  before.  We  were  moving  along  now, 
and  I  did  not  care  for  his  company,  but  did  not 
like  to  shake  him  off  too  abruptly;  he  walked 
close  beside  me,  whether  unconsciously  or  not, 
I  could  not  be  sure.  The  Grand  Square  was 
still  densely  crowded,  and  the  rabble  kept  up  a 
continuous  uproar.  All  around  us,  there  were 
still  prolonged  shouts  for  Peter  Alexeivitch, 
and  here  and  there,  there  were  rough-and-tum- 
ble fights  in  progress,  due  undoubtedly  to  the 
reviving  sentiment  of  opposition.  I  noticed 
but  few  boyars  threading  their  way  through  the 
mob;  for  days  I  had  remarked  a  certain  timidity 
on  their  part,  an  avoidance  of  the  crowd.  I 
had  no  doubt,  in  my  own  mind,  that  the  trouble 
in  the  Department  of  the  Streltsi  was  more 
serious  than  any  one  was  willing  to  admit,  and 
it  was  difficult  to  estimate  the  result  of  to- 
day's coup  d 'Jtat.  Partisans  and  opponents 
alike  were  aware  of  the  strong  sentiment  among 
the  rank  and  file  of  the  Streltsi  in  favor  of  the 
blind  czarevitch,  or  rather  of  the  great  Czarevna 
Sophia  Alexeievna,1  and  of  their  lukewarm 

1  Sophia,  daughter  of  the  Czar  Alexis.  All  the  daughters 
of  the  emperor  except  Sophia  received  only  a  rudimentary 
education,  according  to  the  old  Russian  custom;  but  for  some 
reason  she  was  allowed  to  share  the  studies  of  her  brother  Feo- 
dor.  It  is  possible  that  the  czar  feared  the  failure  of  heirs  male, 
and  selected  Sophia,  as  the  most  able  of  his  daughters,  to  be 


1 6  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

attachment  to  the  child  Peter,  who  had  just 
been  so  irregularly  elected.  I  could  not  avoid 
some  speculation,  little  as  the  matter  seemed 
then  to  concern  me.  I  confess  that  I  was  moved 
by  a  sentiment  of  gallantry  to  lean  towards  the 
cause  of  the  Czarina  Natalia.  Her  compara- 
tive youth,  her  beauty,  and  the  peril  of  her 
situation  appealed  to  me,  and  I  felt,  with  some 
regret,  that  her  party  scarcely  estimated  the 
real  strength  of  her  opponents.  I  sympathized 
with  the  young  and  ambitious  mother  fighting 
for  the  rights  of  her  son,  hemmed  in  as  she  was 
by  court  intrigue  and  malice,  and  pitted  against 
a  mind  that,  in  diplomacy  and  subtlety,  far 
surpassed  her  own ;  for  we  were  all  beginning 
to  realize  that  the  Czarevna  Sophia  was  a  power 
that  it  was  difficult  to  estimate. 

I  was   half-way  across  the  square  now,  and 

trained  for  a  not  improbable  elevation.  The  Empress  Natalia 
had  been  educated  in  the  house  of  the  Chancellor  Matveief, 
who  was  married  to  a  Scotch  lady ;  she  was  thus  unaccus- 
tomed to  the  old  Russian  rules  of  seclusion  and  ignorance ; 
and  the  introduction  of  her  western  ideas  and  customs  into  the 
imperial  palace  gave  great  offense  to  Sophia.  Very  soon  this 
kindled  a  feud  between  the  Naryshkins  and  the  Miloslavskys, 
which  grew  more  bitter  when  Alexis  showered  favors  on  his 
young  wife  and  her  brothers.  Sophia  began  intriguing  with 
the  Streltsi,  or  National  Guards,  and  ultimately  gained  them 
over,  all  but  one  regiment.  These  troops  virtually  composed 
the  army  of  Russia,  for  the  empire  was  then  without  military 
organization. 


THE  RABBLE  ELECT  A    CZAR.  I/ 

my  unsolicited  companion  continued  to  trail 
along  at  my  heels.  I  was  just  making  up  my 
mind  to  be  rid  of  the  fellow,  when  we  found 
our  path  obstructed  by  a  dense  mass  of  people, 
congregated  about  two  Russians  who  were  grap- 
pling each  other  in  a  fierce  hand-to-hand  battle. 
The  crowd  pushing  us  aside,  I  was  turning 
away,  when  my  companion  uttered  a  cry,  and 
leaping  into  the  mass  of  humanity,  pushed  his 
way  through,  and  threw  himself  upon  the  com- 
batants. I  was  caught  in  the  throng  and  thrust 
to  the  front  of  the  ring,  an  unwilling  witness 
of  the  hostilities.  My  unknown  companion  had 
seized  one  of  the  combatants  around  the  waist 
and  was  dragging  him  off  the  other,  by  main 
force,  while  the  bystanders  shouted  for  fair 
play.  It  was  evident  that  the  quarrel  was 
purely  personal,  and  that  the  rabble  were  merely 
interested  in  it  as  a  kind  of  diversion,  and  not 
a  little  disappointed  when  my  acquaintance 
succeeded  in  separating  them.  Keeping  his 
grip  on  the  smaller  of  the  two  men,  he  told  the 
other  to  be  off  before  he  was  thrashed  into 
eternity.  The  fellow  addressed,  who  looked 
like  some  boyar's  retainer,  was  only  too  glad  to 
sneak  off  through  the  jeering  crowd,  for  he  had 
been  badly  whipped.  The  other  man  allowed 
himself  to  be  jerked  along  by  the  collar,  sub- 


1 8  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

missive  enough  in  the  stranger's  relentless  grip. 
He  was  a  small  man  to  have  been  so  puissant, 
and  I  saw  that  he  was  a  little  misshapen,  one 
shoulder  being  very  high,  and  his  thin,  pale 
face  was  ill-favored.  The  bystanders  began  to 
laugh  as  they  saw  how  meekly  he  submitted  to 
the  authority  of  the  tall,  hard-featured  man  who 
had  seized  him. 

"  Oh,  come ! "  cried  one  of  the  rascals, 
"what  is  this  new  meekness  ?  You  fought  well, 
but  you  can't  keep  your  head  up  now !  " 

"Let  go  of  him,  master!"  shouted  another; 
"it  is  a  shame  to  spoil  our  pastime." 

Without  heeding,  the  stranger  forced  his 
way  among  them,  dragging  along  his  captive, 
and  only  bestowing  a  scornful  glance  on  the 
populace.  I  was  more  than  ever  struck  with 
his  air  of  authority,  and  saw  that  these  men  all 
gave  way  to  him,  —  a  tacit  recognition  of  his 
commanding  mien,  for  a  less  determined  man 
could  never  have  broken  up  that  quarrel  and 
dispersed  the  crowd.  My  interest  was  suffi- 
ciently roused  to  make  me  forget  my  anxiety  to 
be  rid  of  him,  and  as  he  pushed  along  with 
the  crestfallen  victor,  I  joined  him.  As  we 
proceeded,  part  of  the  rabble  followed,  evi- 
dently actuated  by  idle  curiosity. 

"Let   us   move   faster,"  I   remarked   to   the 


THE  RABBLE  ELECT  A    CZAR.  19 

stranger;  "now  that  the  election  is  over,  the 
crowd  is  breaking  away,  and  we  shall  presently 
have  the  canaille  at  our  heels." 

He  looked  at  me  scornfully,  I  thought,  but 
still  mended  his  pace;  and  as  we  were  now  a 
little  away  from  the  mob,  he  took  his  hand  off 
the  other's  collar,  addressing  him  sharply. 

"  You  fool ! "  he  said,  in  his  grim  way.  "  You 
will  spoil  all  with  your  absurd  brawls.  Can't 
you  see  that  villain's  cook  in  the  highway 
without  thrashing  him,  and  forthwith  drawing 
the  notice  of  all  the  tale-bearers  and  spies  in 
Moscow  ? " 

"I  beg  your  excellency's  pardon,"  stammered 
the  man,  shamefaced,  "  but  it  was  that  carrion 
Polotsky,  and  I  would  rather  die  than  not  beat 
him!" 

"Ay!"  retorted  the  other,  grimly,  "you 
should  have  cut  his  throat  long  ago ;  but,  as  it 
is,  he  is  the  worst  one  you  could  have  selected 
for  a  street  brawl.  You  are  an  ass,  Michael 
Gregorievitch,  and  will  not  only  hang  your- 
self, but  your  master  if  you  can  find  enough 
rope ! " 

The  other  man  glanced  at  me  obliquely  out 
of  his  narrow  eyes,  and  his  master,  noting  the 
look  and  the  interrogation  in  his  face,  smiled. 

"A  friend,"  he  said,  and  added  something  in 


2P  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

an  undertone  which  escaped  me ;  but  I  saw  his 
servant's  eyes  fasten  curiously  upon  me. 

We  were  approaching  the  Cathedral  of  the 
Assumption,  and  although  a  few  paces  in  ad- 
vance, were  still  closely  followed  by  a  train  of 
curious  people.  The  stranger  had  drawn  his 
sword  when  he  rushed  into  the  fight,  and  was 
still  carrying  the  naked  blade  in  his  hand,  and 
his  dress  being  disordered,  displayed  his  uni- 
form. As  we  approached  the  cathedral,  he 
seemed  to  divine  my  intention  of  lingering  in 
that  vicinity,  and  pausing,  extended  his  hand 
with  a  gesture  at  once  dignified  and  gracious. 

"M.  de  Brousson,"  he  said,  startling  me 
with  my  own  name,  "I  believe  we  part  here. 
I  thank  you  for  your  company  across  the  square, 
and  if,  in  the  future,  you  need  me,  I  am  Peter 
Lykof." 

"  I  am  evidently  better  known  to  you  than  I 
supposed,"  I  replied  as  courteously  as  my 
astonishment  would  permit,  and  conscious  of 
an  immediate  doubt  that  I  heard  the  unknown's 
true  name;  "and  I  am  equally  beholden  for 
monsieur's  society  on  this  troubled  day." 

Lykof  waved  his  hand,  as  if  dismissing  fur- 
ther exchange  of  courtesies,  and  passed  on  with 
the  rabble  at  his  heels,  while  I  at  once  fell  into 
insignificance  without  him. 


THE  RABBLE  ELECT  A    CZAR.  21 

As  I  stood  there,  marveling  at  the  stranger's 
knowledge  of  my  identity,  I  looked  up,  and 
beheld  the  face  that  had  haunted  my  memory 
for  weeks  and  shone  like  a  pale  flower  out  of 
the  dark  background  of  passion  and  intrigue. 


CHAPTER   II. 
MADEMOISELLE'S  GLOVE. 

SHE  had  just  come  out  of  the  Cathedral  of 
the  Assumption,  and  was  standing  beside  the 
proud  old  boyar,  whom  I  supposed  to  be  her 
father.  Her  veil  had  slipped  aside,  and  once 
more  I  saw  her  features  plainly,  though  this 
time  she  was  oblivious  of  my  presence.  She 
was  beautiful.  There  was  no  longer  any  doubt ; 
before,  I  had  thought  that  it  might  be  half  my 
fancy,  half  the  dim  light  within  the  cathedral ; 
but  now,  in  the  broad  sunlight,  I  saw  the  regu- 
larity of  her  small  features,  the  exquisite  fair- 
ness of  her  complexion,  the  beautiful  blue  of 
her  eyes.  I  saw  too  that  she  had  been  weep- 
ing, and  was  pale.  My  heart  throbbed  with  a 
sudden  mad  impulse  to  offer  her  my  sword,  as 
her  knight-errant.  Fortunately,  prudence  and 
the  common  conventionalities  of  life  kept  me 
still,  but  I  eagerly  watched  her  every  move- 


MADEMOISELLE'S   GLOVE.  2$ 

merit.  Her  hand  rested  half  reluctantly,  I 
thought,  upon  the  arm  of  her  escort,  and  she 
seemed  to  shrink  away  from  the  noise  and  rush 
of  the  crowd  that  was  streaming  past  the  cathe- 
dral, roaring  and  bellowing  upon  the  way.  The 
old  boyar,  her  protector,  glanced  at  them  with 
complacent  condescension,  and  from  that 
moment  I  never  doubted  his  adherence  to  the 
Naryshkins.  I  could  see  that  he  was  measur- 
ing the  extent  of  their  success,  gloating,  per- 
haps, over  the  defeat  of  their  opponents;  there 
was  something  in  the  man's  face  that  suggested 
a  keen  relish  for  such  a  triumph.  He  was  the 
personification  of  the  old-time  Russian  boyar, 
the  adherent  of  Precedence,  the  tyrant  of  the 
serf,  the  aggressive  autocrat.  He  stood  there, 
in  the  shadow  of  the  cathedral,  and  viewed  the 
Moscow  rabble  with  the  reflection  of  the  patri- 
arch's triumph  on  his  face.  Such  men  as  these 
would  never  make  the  Czarevitch  Peter's  cause 
popular  with  the  masses,  never  pacify  the 
wounded  sensibilities  of  the  Dissenters,  or  heal 
the  troubles  of  the  Streltsi.  The  old  noble 
was  the  picture  of  combativeness  and  aggres- 
sion, and  there  was,  too,  a  sinister  expression 
in  his  eyes.  His  brows  were  intensely  black 
in  contrast  to  his  gray  hair,  and  instead  of 
curving  with  the  socket  of  the  eye,  they  pointed 


24  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

suddenly  up  at  the  ends,  like  two  horns,  giving 
at  once  a  Satanic  aspect  to  the  Tartar  face,  with 
its  olive  skin  and  its  thin,  pale  lips. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  complete  than 
the  contrast  between  the  two,  the  old  man  and 
the  girl :  a  hawk  and  a  dove.  So  intent  was  he 
upon  the  scene  before  them,  that  he  seemed  to 
forget  her,  and  she  shrank  back  in  the  shelter 
of  his  large  figure  and  gazed  timidly  about. 
It  was  then  that  I  had  the  satisfaction  to  find 
that  I  was  remembered.  I  moved  a  little  nearer 
to  them,  and  as  I  did  so,  she  turned,  and  our 
eyes  met.  There  was  a  flash  of  recognition, 
and,  I  dared  to  think,  almost  of  pleasure  in 
her  glance,  but  she  instantly  turned  her  head 
and  gazed  in  the  opposite  direction ;  still,  I 
rejoiced  to  see  a  beautiful  blush  creep  slowly  up 
to  her  brow,  and  suffuse  her  face,  until  even  her 
delicate  ear  was  scarlet.  She  remembered  me, 
then,  but  did  she  resent  my  audacity?  I  was 
never  a  man  to  be  easily  dashed,  but  I  knew 
that  Russian  etiquette  was  even  more  rigid  than 
our  own,  and  caution  was  a  necessity.  A  bolder 
man  would  have  hesitated  to  encounter  that 
proud  old  boyar ! 

She  stood  there  with  averted  face,  pulling 
nervously  at  her  gloves,  and  presently  she  had 
one  off,  and  I  saw  a  small  and  beautiful  hand. 


MADEMOISELLE'S  GLOVE.  2$ 

Suddenly  she  adjusted  her  veil  more  closely, 
and  I  feared  that  my  persistent  gaze  had  given 
offense,  until  I  discovered  the  cause  of  her 
movement.  An  acquaintance  of  the  boyar's 
had  approached,  and  I  was  startled  at  recogniz- 
ing no  less  a  person  than  Viatscheslav  Narysh- 
kin,  a  cousin  of  the  Czarina  Natalia,  and  a 
man  whom  I  had  learned  to  despise  as  a  court 
profligate,  full  of  intrigue  and  malice  of  a  com- 
mon kind,  and  holding  his  place  only  because 
of  his  illustrious  relative;  yet  managing  to 
exert  considerable  influence  in  that  inner  circle 
which  constituted  the  strength  of  the  czarina's 
party,  which  to-day's  election  would  elevate  to 
a  dizzy  eminence,  if  they  were  equal  to  discern- 
ing and  grasping  their  opportunities. 

The  boyar  welcomed  Naryshkin  with  effusion, 
but  I  saw  that  his  fair  companion  seemed  to 
shrink  yet  farther  into  the  background,  and  I 
rejoiced  at  the  maiden's  discernment.  It  is 
said  that  every  woman  is  endowed  with  an  in- 
stinct that  warns  her  against  such  men,  and  in 
this  case  it  seemed  true.  Naryshkin,  however, 
was  nothing  dashed  by  her  manner,  probably 
attributing  it  to  maiden  coyness,  and  forced 
himself  upon  her  notice  in  a  way  which  made 
me  grind  my  teeth;  but  I  was  compelled  to 
swallow  my  displeasure  and  play  the  rdle  of  a 


26  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

bystander  at  the  little  drama.  It  did  not  take 
me  long  to  draw  some  natural  conclusions, 
especially  as  I  saw  that  the  boyar  evidently 
favored  the  would-be  suitor,  and  was  as  eager 
to  welcome  his  advances  as  the  young  girl  was 
to  repulse  them.  I  was  more  than  ever  deter- 
mined to  learn  something  about  the  identity  of 
the  two,  and  the  probable  fate  in  store  for  the 
possessor  of  that  beautiful  face.  When  they 
moved  away  through  the  crowd  I  followed,  as  I 
had  followed  before,  and  saw  them  assisted 
into  their  carriage  by  Naryshkin.  As  she 
stepped  into  it  she  turned  and  looked  back,  and 
it  seemed  to  me  that,  even  through  her  veil,  I 
saw  her  eyes;  something  fell  from  her  hand  and 
fluttered  to  the  ground,  unnoticed  by  her  ill- 
favored  suitor.  As  the  carriage  drove  slowly 
off,  I  pressed  forward  and  found  a  glove.  Her 
glove!  A  man  was  standing  near  me  and  I 
questioned  him.  Yes,  he  knew  whose  carriage 
it  was.  That  old  gentleman  was  the  Boyar 
Vladimir  Ramodanofsky,  and  I  gathered  from 
the  fellow's  manner  that  the  name  was  not  pop- 
ular with  the  masses.  I  had  gained  something ; 
knowing  his  name,  I  could  soon  learn  more  of 
him;  already  I  knew  a  little,  by  reputation,  of 
the  stern  old  nobleman  who  had  once  com- 
manded the  insubordinate  Streltsi. 


MADEMOISELLE'S  GLOVE.  2J 

Meanwhile,  her  glove  lay  in  the  palm  of  my 
hand.  Such  a  little  glove;  of  the  kind  worn 
by  the  ladies  in  Paris,  and  it  seemed  to  retain 
yet  the  round  shape  of  her  small  hand,  to  be  a 
part  of  her  personality.  Had  she  dropped  it 
purposely  ?  I  dared  not  think  so ;  but  I  thrust 
it  into  my  bosom  and  walked  on  swiftly  in  the 
track  of  the  carriage.  I  was  resolved  this  time 
to  know  more  about  her.  The  crowd  was  thin- 
ning out,  and  I  made  my  way  easily  to  the  Gate 
of  the  Redeemer,  keeping  the  carriage  in  view, 
for  it  was  moving  slowly.  I  was  congratulating 
myself  on  having  escaped  my  strange  acquaint- 
ance and  being  at  liberty  to  pursue  my  own 
inclination,  but  I  was  destined  to  meet  with 
another  obstacle  to  the  accomplishment  of  my 
errand.  Just  as  I  was  about  to  leave  the 
Kremlin,  I  encountered  Dr.  Daniel  von  Gaden, 
the  Jewish  physician  of  the  late  Czar  Feodor. 
He  stopped  me  to  ask  some  particulars  of  the 
occurrences  in  the  Grand  Square.  He  was  a 
learned  man,  and  had,  too,  a  thorough  knowl- 
edge of  the  intrigues  at  court.  His  face  to- 
day was  pale  and  grave. 

"These  are  troublous  times,"  he  said 
thoughtfully,  "and  an  honest  man  scarcely 
knows  to  which  strong  arm  to  look  for  shelter. 
It  is  an  evil  hour  to  place  a  child  on  the  throne. 


28  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

The  czarina's  party  is  not  strong  enough  with- 
out  the  adherence  of  the  Streltsi,  and  that  is  a 
difficult  matter.  Besides,  there  is  no  leader 
there  but  Matveief,  and  he  —  they  accuse  him 
of  witchcraft !  "  Von  Gaden  laughed.  "  It  is 
not  well  to  study  algebra  in  Russia." 

"No,"  I  said,  "learning  is  at  a  discount.  I 
marvel,  monsieur,  that  they  do  not  accuse  you 
of  the  black  arts. " 

"They  do  worse  in  their  hearts,  M.  le 
Vicomte,"  he  answered  gravely;  "they  accuse 
me  of  poisoning  the  late  czar." 

I  started.  The  announcement,  made  with 
such  composure,  astonished  me.  For  the 
moment  I  forgot  the  carriage  and  my  inter- 
rupted adventure.  He  saw  my  amazement,  and 
smiled  sadly. 

"Not  openly,"  he  said;  "the  accusations  are 
whispered  where  an  honest  man  may  not  refute 
them ;  but  you  know  such  whispering  sent  the 
chancellor  to  a  remote  corner  of  Archangel, 
and  what  may  be  the  fate  of  an  obscure  Jewish 
doctor?" 

He  looked  at  me  with  an  expression  of 
gloomy  interrogation.  I  have  often  thought 
since  that  his  awful  fate  was  already  casting  its 
black  shadow  over  his  soul ;  that  he  was  gifted 
with  prescience. 


MADEMOISELLE'S  GLOVE.  29 

"  Natalia  is  your  friend,  is  she  not  ? "  I  ven- 
tured mildly,  feeling  that  any  remark  was  worse 
than  useless. 

"Ay,"  he  said  at  once;  "the  gracious  czar- 
ina is  my  friend,  but  what  power  has  she 
here?" 

His  eye  swept  over  the  Kremlin,  and  I  knew 
that  his  mind  was  conjuring  up  a  thousand  pic- 
tures of  the  dark  deeds  that  made  up  its  secret 
annals.  Before  he  spoke  again,  I  looked  at  the 
gate  and  saw  a  hideous  little  figure  rushing 
towards  us,  whirling  its  arms  above  its  large 
head,  and  uttering  a  shrill  sound  between  a 
squeal  and  a  whistle.  Von  Gaden,  awaking 
from  his  revery,  eyed  the  new-comer  with  little 
favor. 

"It  is  Homyak,  one  of  the  court  dwarfs,"  he 
remarked  calmly,  "and  he  is  evidently  badly 
frightened." 

The  little  creature  threw  himself  upon  the 
doctor,  grasping  his  mantle  in  his  talon-like 
fingers  and  raising  a  white  drawn  face. 

"  I  have  seen  the  dead  ! "  he  moaned,  cower- 
ing down  until  he  was  the  picture  of  abject 
terror.  "  I  have  seen  the  dead ! " 

Von  Gaden  shook  his  mantle  free  with  an 
impatient  gesture. 

"  You  are  evidently  troubled  with  a  bad  con- 


3O  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

science,  Homyak,"  he  said  cynically,  "there- 
fore your  graveyard  visitants  are  frequent ! " 

The  dwarf  covered  his  wizened  face  with  his 
hands,  and  rocked  to  and  fro  in  an  ecstasy  of 
fear.  I  could  not  help  a  feeling  of  pity  as  well 
as  disgust  as  I  beheld  him. 

"What  was  your  vision  this  time?  "  the  Jew 
asked,  with  relentless  contempt. 

The  dwarf  stopped  his  exhibition  of  terror, 
and  going  close  to  the  physician,  tried  to  raise 
his  hideous  face  to  his  interrogator's. 

"It  was  he!"  he  whispered  in  a  tone  just 
audible  to  me.  "  He,  whom  you  tried  to  save 
on  the  Red  Staircase,  and  who  lay  dying  that 
night  on  the  stone  pavement  of  his  own  court- 
yard !  " 

Von  Gaden  started.  "  'T  is  strange !  "  he 
muttered ;  "  I  was  thinking  of  him  a  moment 
since.  Her  young  face  brought  back  the 
memory  of  that  awful  scene.  And  you  have 
seen  him,  fellow? " 

He  regarded  the  dwarf  with  a  look  of  fierce 
interrogation,  as  if  to  read  his  very  soul ;  but 
Homyak  showed  no  desire  to  conceal  anything; 
he  was  shaking  with  genuine  terror. 

"I  saw  his  spirit,"  he  said,  his  teeth  chatter- 
ing, "  and  there  was  the  scar  —  the  wound  you 
sewed  up.  I  saw  him,  and  he  mocked  me ! " 


MADEMOISELLE'S  GLOVE.  31 

"  Where  was  he  ?  "  asked  the  physician,  while 
I  marveled  at  his  patience  with  the  dwarf's 
vagaries. 

"He  came  from  this  direction,"  said  Horn- 
yak,  wildly,  "and  he  was  gaunt  and  thin,  and 
his  hair  was  white." 

Von  Gaden  laughed.  "You  dream,  Horn- 
yak,"  he  said;  "ghosts  do  not  age." 

I  was  growing  impatient,  and  made  a  move- 
ment to  leave  them ;  but  Von  Gaden  laid  his 
hand  on  my  arm. 

"A  moment,  M.  de  Brousson,"  he  said;  and 
then  he  took  the  dwarf  aside,  and  speaking 
to  him  sternly  and  briefly,  dispatched  him  in 
the  direction  of  the  palace.  When  he  rejoined 
me  I  saw  that  the  gloom  on  his  face  had  deep- 
ened rather  than  disappeared. 

"If  you  can  walk  home  with  me,  M.  le 
Vicomte,"  he  said  gravely,  "I  would  gladly 
talk  a  little  with  you.  These  are  uncertain 
times,  and  a  man  must  needs  keep  his  house  in 
order  and  his  affairs  ready,  lest  he  be  unexpect- 
edly taken  away.  There  is  a  matter  that  has 
often  weighed  upon  my  mind  that  I  would  gladly 
confide  to  a  disinterested  man  who  could  bear 
witness  in  the  hour  of  need." 

Now,  I  was  on  the  horns  of  a  dilemma.  The 
doctor  had  been  more  than  obliging  to  me  when 


32  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

I  lay  sore  smitten  with  fever,  and  I  could  not 
easily  deny  him,  yet  I  was  fretting  to  be  off 
on  my  errand.  However,  I  resigned  myself  to 
the  circumstances,  and  with  some  reluctance 
turned  to  accompany  him.  Then  a  sudden 
thought  prompted  me  to  question  my  com- 
panion. 

"Can  you  tell  me  anything,"  I  said,  "of  the 
Boyar  Vladimir  Ramodanof sky  ? " 

Von  Gaden  started  and  looked  at  me  sharply. 

"Verily,"  he  said,  beneath  his  breath, 
"  Homyak  is  right ;  the  dead  walk ! " 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE   STORY   OF   CAIN. 

AFTER  a  moment's  thought  the  physician 
walked  on,  motioning  to  me  to  follow  him. 

"This  is  no  place  for  private  converse,"  he 
said ;  "  when  we  are  in  my  house,  I  can  answer 
you.  It  was  of  the  Boyar  Ramodanofsky  I  was 
about  to  speak,  and  your  question  startled  me; 
but  mayhap  it  was  accidental.  At  any  rate, 
follow  me,  and  I  will  endeavor  to  satisfy  your 
curiosity." 

I  was  content  to  follow,  since  I  was  assured 
of  hearing  something  of  the  boyar  and  his 
beautiful  charge.  I  did  not  doubt  Von  Gaden's 
knowledge  of  them;  his  profession  gained  him 
universal  admittance,  and  he  had  been  a  physi- 
cian of  the  czar's,  which  was  an  endorsement 
readily  accepted  by  the  nobility. 

The  streets  outside  the  Kremlin  were  packed 
with  people ;  the  crowd  within  had  dispersed, 
and  Bielui-gorod  was  filled  with  the  overflow. 
3 


34  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

I  noticed  more  than  once  that  curious  and,  I 
fancied,  suspicious  glances  were  cast  at  the 
physician,  as  we  walked  rapidly  along;  but 
he  was  apparently  unconscious  of  them,  although 
his  keen  eye  was  ever  so  observant.  Here  and 
there  were  knots  of  soldiers  talking  eagerly 
together;  and  at  one  corner  we  witnessed  a 
curious  example  of  the  smoldering  ire  of  the 
Streltsi  against  their  own  commanders.  An 
officer  of  the  Pyzhof  regiment  was  riding 
towards  the  Kremlin,  evidently  on  an  errand  of 
importance.  As  he  came  abreast  of  us,  a 
woman  hissed  him,  and  a  cry  rose  suddenly,  as 
if  at  a  preconcerted  signal,  — 

"  Down  with  the  officers !  Down  with 
oppression  and  extortion !  Give  us  our  pay !  " 
And  the  stones  flew  like  hail. 

The  officer,  a  young  fellow,  taken  unawares, 
was  evidently  alarmed,  and  dashed  off  through 
the  crowd  without  offering  any  remonstrance, 
his  retreat  bringing  laughter  and  jeers  from  the 
mob.  Von  Gaden  quickened  his  step,  saying 
to  me  in  a  low  tone :  — 

"It  is  an  evil  sign;  the  insubordination  has 
reached  serious  proportions,  and  there  is  no 
master  hand  upon  the  rein.  We  have  had  two 
benevolent  rulers,  —  his  late  majesty,  and  the 
Czar  Alexis;  we  need  now  another,  Ivan  the 


THE  STORY  OF  CAIN.  35 

Terrible.  The  rabble  is  breaking  its  bonds, 
and  woe  to  Russia's  rulers  when  the  reckoning 
day  comes ! " 

"  You  see  it,  then,  as  plainly  as  I  do  ?  "  I 
said.  "This  election  to-day  seemed  idle 
mockery;  they  have  set  up  a  boy  to  rule  the 
Russias,  and  they  can't  control  the  rabble  of 
Moscow ! " 

"No  one  can  foresee  the  end,"  Von  Gaden 
replied  gravely;  "the  feuds  are  so  bitter  that 
every  man  feels  his  life  to  be  in  peril.  The 
Naryshkins  and  their  adherents  all  wore  armor 
under  their  robes  to-day.  The  patriarch  turned 
from  the  side  of  the  dead  czar  to  ask  the  boyars 
who  should  rule  over  them,  and  they  referred 
him  to  the  free  voters  of  the  Moscovite  State ! " 

"  Le  roi  est  mort,  vive  le  roi ! "  I  said  dryly. 

"Ay,  it  is  ever  so!  "  replied  Von  Gaden. 

We  had  reached  his  home,  and  he  ushered 
me  in  with  that  gentle  courtesy  which  was  one 
of  his  characteristics. 

"I  will  take  you  up  to  my  den,"  he  said, 
smiling.  "  I  would  talk  freely  to  you,  and 
there  we  can  be  undisturbed." 

He  led  me  up  a  spiral  stair,  and  opening  a 
low  door  at  the  top,  we  entered  a  long,  narrow 
room  directly  under  the  roof,  and  lighted  only 
by  a  huge  skylight.  As  I  glanced  about  me,  I 


36  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

realized  that  the  place  would  furnish  an  admi- 
rable pretext  for  an  accusation  of  familiarity 
with  the  black  arts,  far  more  plausible  too  than 
the  one  preferred  against  the  book  of  algebra  be- 
longing to  Matveief 's  son.  The  room  was  bare 
of  all  luxury,  furnished  only  in  the  plainest  and 
most  meager  fashion,  and  fitted  up  for  a  labor- 
atory. The  skylight  illumined  the  center  of 
the  apartment,  leaving  the  corners  gloomy; 
and  out  of  the  shadows,  here  and  there,  grinned 
a  whitened  skull,  and  there  were  various  other 
fragments  of  the  human  anatomy  about  the 
place.  The  doctor's  instruments,  keen  and 
polished,  were  in  evidence,  and  heavy  volumes 
of  science  were  piled  from  floor  to  roof,  in 
ponderous  stacks.  There  were  many  phials 
filled  with  various  colored  fluids,  and  a  keen 
aromatic  odor  issued  from  a  black  kettle  sim- 
mering over  the  fire,  suspended  on  a  hook  and 
chain  from  the  brick  arch  above  the  hearth.  It 
was  the  very  spot  in  which  to  conjure  up  a 
familiar  spirit,  and  there  was  something  of 
the  same  mystery  and  interest  about  the 
dignified  figure  of  the  Hebrew.  His  keen  eye 
divined  my  thoughts. 

"You  see  the  palpable  evidence  of  my  ne- 
farious schemes,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said, 
smiling.  "  Here  is  the  place  to  brew  a  poison 


THE  STORY  OF  CAIN,  37 

for  a  czar.  Alas !  there  is  no  foe  so  dangerous 
as  ignorant  superstition,  and  the  average  Rus- 
sian of  to-day  is  even  more  superstitious  than 
the  rest  of  the  world.  There  is  one  man  in 
that  court,  though,  who  is  in  advance  of.  his 
times;  one  man  who  is  equal  to  taking  the 
helm,  though  the  last  one  likely  to  be  called, 
if  the  election  of  to-day  hold." 

I  glanced  at  him  interrogatively;  I  always 
liked  to  hear  Von  Gaden's  opinions.  He  con- 
tinued at  once,  — 

"I  mean  Prince  Basil  Galitsyn,"  he  said; 
"he  is  still  a  young  man,  but  a  born  leader." 

"All  his  attachment  is  for  the  Miloslavsky 
party  though,"  I  replied. 

"Ay,  he  is  for  the  Miloslavskys.  In  fact, 
there  is  a  strong  friendship  between  him  and 
the  Czarevna  Sophia;  for  all  that,  he  may  yet 
be  called  to  the  helm,  for  who  knows  what  will 
come  ? " 

"You  know  the  young  czar,"  I  said;  "what 
do  you  think  of  him  ?  " 

"Peter  Alexeivitch  is  still  a  child,"  Von 
Gaden  replied  slowly;  "but  I  have  observed 
him  closely,  for  in  him,  I  know,  we  see  Rus- 
sia's future  ruler,  whoever  reigns  during  his 
minority.  His  succession  seems  beyond  dis- 
pute, in  the  long  run.  He  is  neither  like  his 


38  ON   THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

amiable  father,  Alexis,  nor  like  the  late  czar, 
Feodor.  He  is  a  young  barbarian,  —  fierce, 
cruel,  daring.  The  boy  is  different  from  other 
boys.  I  think  that  Russia  has  much  to  fear, 
and  more  to  hope,  from  that  young  Tartar." 

I  laughed.  "  It  is  well  that  these  walls  are 
without  ears,"  I  said,  "else  what  treason  would 
this  sound  in  Moscow ! " 

"  Ay,  treason,  always  treason ! "  returned 
Von  Gaden,  bitterly.  "  If  I  cure  the  czar,  I 
am  a  magician ;  if  I  fail  to  cure  him,  I  am  a 
poisoner.  It  is,  therefore,  only  a  choice  of 
evils." 

He  stooped  down  and  stirred  the  fire,  the 
red  light  glowing  on  his  features.  I  had  put 
aside  my  cloak  and  was  standing  watching 
him.  He  laid  down  the  poker  and  looked  up. 

"Be  seated,"  he  said,  courteously,  signing  to 
me  to  take  the  only  chair  in  the  room,  while 
he  sat  down  opposite,  on  a  crooked-legged 
stool.  "  I  dare  say  you  think  I  have  forgotten 
Ramodanofsky,  but  I  have  not.  It  is  an  evil 
story,  and  I  have  never  told  it ;  but  it  is  borne 
in  upon  me  that  I  may  not  have  long  to  live, 
and  I  do  not  care  to  die  with  that  secret  in  my 
bosom, — although  I  have  many  others,"  he 
added,  smiling.  He  was  leaning  a  little  for- 
ward, his  clasped  hands  resting  heavily  on 


THE  STORY  OF  CAIN.  39 

his  knees,  his  back  being  to  the  light,  and 
only  the  red  glow  of  the  fire  illumining  his 
features. 

"  Your  profession  makes  you  a  natural  repos- 
itory of  secrets,"  I  replied.  "  My  own  nature  is 
too  careless  for  such  a  work  as  yours;  I  should 
bungle  both  with  my  patients  and  their  confi- 
dences." 

"  It  might  be  far  otherwise  if  you  had  been 
trained  to  tend  the  ill  and  the  dying,  M.  de 
Brousson,"  he  rejoined  quietly.  "Every  pro- 
fession molds  its  neophytes.  You  have  been 
taught  to  put  people  out  of  the  world,  I  to  help 
to  keep  them  in  it." 

"The  nobler  work,"  I  said  courteously, 
although  I  had  no  thought  of  drawing  a  com- 
parison between  my  sword  and  his  lance. 

"I  thank  you,"  Von  Gaden  answered  dryly; 
"but  I  know  well  what  you  of  noble  blood  think 
of  the  surgeons  who  sew  up  the  slashes  made 
by  your  blades.  But  no  matter.  I  am  moved 
to  tell  you  the  story  of  Ramodanofsky.  I  will 
recount  the  whole  affair;  part  of  it  —  the  last 
part  —  from  my  own  experience,  the  rest  I  have 
gathered  sometimes  by  inquiry,  sometimes  by 
accident.  There  were  two  brothers  of  the 
name,  the  elder  Feodor,  and  the  younger  Vlad- 
imir, whom  you  have  seen,  both  old  men  now, 


40  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

if  both  had  lived.  They  were  of  different 
mothers.  Feodor  was  the  son  of  a  Polish 
woman,  the  old  boyar's  first  wife;  Vladimir  is 
pure  Russian,  or  Tartar,  which  you  please. 
Feodor  was  the  favorite,  and  inherited  the 
estates  and  the  wealth,  while  Vladimir  came 
off  but  poorly.  The  two  men  hated  each  other; 
the  tie  of  a  common  fatherhood  never  bound 
them ;  yet  I  believe  that  the  Boyar  Feodor 
Ramodanofsky  was  just  to  his  half-brother, 
who  was,  in  a  way,  dependent  upon  him ;  but 
you  can  imagine  how  the  father's  discrimina- 
tion in  favor  of  the  elder  rankled  with  a  man 
like  Vladimir.  Feodor  went  to  France  at  one 
time,  and  while  there,  married  a  beautiful  young 
Frenchwoman,  of  noble  family,  and  connected, 
I  believe,  on  her  mother's  side  with  the  Polish 
mother  of  Feodor.  He  brought  home  his 
bride,  and  in  a  year  or  so  a  child  was  born  to 
them,  to  their  great  disappointment  not  a  boy, 
but  a  girl.  Vladimir  was  then  serving  in  the 
army,  fighting  the  Don  Cossacks,  at  the  time 
of  Stenka  Razin's  insurrection,  for  it  was  dur- 
ing the  reign  of  Alexis  the  Debonair.  When 
he  returned,  he  was  poorer  and  more  reckless 
than  ever.  Whether  he  loved  Feodor 's  wife  or 
not,  it  is  hard  to  tell,  but  he  began  to  make  love 
to  her  whenever  his  brother  was  absent.  Marie 


THE  STORY  OF  CAIN.  41 

Ramodanofsky  was  a  noble  woman,  I  knew  her; 
her  daughter  has  inherited  her  beauty,  along 
with  her  father's  spirit.  She  resented  Vladi- 
mir's treachery,  but  she  dreaded  to  tell  her  hus- 
band, who  was  a  passionate  and  jealous  man, 
and  who  hated  his  brother  for  a  hundred  evil 
traits  that  he  knew,  without  adding  this  one. 
But  at  last  her  position  became  unendurable, 
and  she  told  her  husband.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  a  bitter  scene  ensued,  and  the  boyar,  in 
the  first  flush  of  his  anger  and  jealousy,  must 
have  falsely  accused  her  of  encouraging  his 
brother;  when  he  left  her  to  go  in  search  of 
the  traitor,  her  attendants  found  her  in  a  death- 
like swoon.  Meanwhile,  Feodor  followed  Vlad- 
imir to  the  Kremlin,  and  finding  him  on  the 
Red  Staircase,  a  fight  ensued.  Feodor  was  the 
more  powerful  man  of  the  two,  but  he  was  blind 
with  rage,  and  it  is  said  that  Homyak,  the 
court  dwarf,  who  was  patronized  by  Vladimir, 
seeing  the  fight  going  against  the  latter,  tripped 
up  the  elder  brother,  and  he  fell  from  the  top 
to  the  bottom  of  the  Red  Staircase,  the  blood 
flowing  from  a  gash  in  his  cheek.  I  was  in 
the  palace,  attending  the  Czarevna  Sophia,  and 
was  summoned  to  the  wounded  man.  Vladimir 
had  disappeared,  and  Homyak  gave  a  garbled 
version  of  the  fight.  It  had  reached  the  ears  of 


42  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

the  czar,  and  Alexis  was  not  a  little  angered ; 
already  I  think  his  mind  was  poisoned  by  the 
tales  that  later  ruined  Feodor,  for  soon  after 
this  he  lost  favor,  and  it  was  bruited  about  that 
he  was  a  traitor  to  the  czar.  It  was  fifteen 
months  afterwards  when  I  was  summoned  to 
take  care  of  Madame  Ramodanof sky ;  she  died 
when  her  little  son  was  born.  The  boy  lived 
only  two  days,  and  they  were  buried  together. 
Feodor  felt  his  loss  bitterly;  he  was  then  under 
a  heavy  cloud,  and  threatened,  I  knew,  with 
exile ;  for  I  have  known  most  of  the  secrets  of 
the  court  for  many  years.  No  man  seemed  to 
be  able  to  lay  his  finger  on  the  boyar's  accuser, 
but  I  never  doubted  that  it  was  Vladimir. 

"  It  was  the  week  after  the  wife  and  baby 
died  that  I  was  entering  the  courtyard  of 
Ramodanofsky's  house.  Homyak  was  just 
ahead  of  me;  he  seemed  to  be  Feodor's  evil 
genius.  There  was  quite  a  little  crowd  in  the 
court;  all  the  serfs  were  there,  and  in  the 
center  of  the  place,  in  a  pool  of  blood,  lay 
Feodor,  stricken  down  by  the  hand  of  an  un- 
known assassin,  so  they  said.  He  was  not 
dead,  and  I  had  him  carried  into  the  house,  and 
bound  up  his  wounds;  I  thought  he  would  live, 
but  I  was  not  positive,  and  had  to  leave  him 
still  in  a  state  of  semi-consciousness.  As  I 


THE  STORY  OF  CAIN.  43 

crossed  the  courtyard,  Homyak  plucked  at  my 
cloak.  I  have  always  hated  the  grinning  crea- 
ture, and  made  a  motion  to  shake  him  off.  '  How 
is  the  boyar?  '  he  asked  eagerly;  'He  will 
live,'  I  retorted  curtly.  The  dwarf  laughed. 
'  Vladimir  Sergheievitch  is  not  as  good  a 
swordsman  as  I  thought, '  he  said.  '  It  was  that 
villain,  then  ?  '  I  exclaimed  too  eagerly,  for 
Homyak  took  alarm,  and  rambled  off  into  one  of 
his  fanciful  tales  of  which  one  can  make  noth- 
ing. The  next  day,  before  I  could  see  my 
patient,  Vladimir  Sergheievitch  Ramodanofsky 
appeared  at  the  palace  to  announce  the  death  of 
his  brother,  and  was  closeted  with  the  czar.  I 
never  saw  even  the  corpse  of  Feodor.  I  pro- 
tested as  openly  as  I  dared  against  the  foul  play 
that,  I  was  sure,  was  taking  place,  but  there 
was  no  room  for  complaints.  Vladimir's 
tongue  is  oiled,  and  he  had  the  ear  of  the 
council;  he  laid  before  them  certain  treason- 
able papers  purporting  to  be  his  brother's,  and 
the  upshot  was,  that  the  dead  boyar' s  memory 
was  an  ill  savor  in  the  nostrils  of  the  court, 
and  his  honors  and  emoluments  went  to  Vlad- 
imir. If  Feodor  Sergheievitch  had  lived,  he 
would  have  been  sent  into  exile.  His  little 
daughter  was  turned  over  to  the  guardianship 
of  the  fiend  who  had  endeavored  to  ruin  her 


44  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

mother  and  had  murdered  her  father.  The 
child,  fortunately,  was  ignorant  of  it  all,  and 
has  grown  up  in  her  uncle's  household;  and  as 
he  has  no  children,  will  probably  inherit  her 
own,  in  the  end.  She  is  rich  even  now,  for  the 
czar  had  the  justice  to  see  that  she  was  not 
robbed  of  all  her  patrimony." 

I  had  listened  with  keen  interest,  because  I 
foresaw  the  end  of  the  story. 

"This  Boyar  Ramodanofsky,  then,  has  no 
children?"  I  said.  "And  the  young  lady  with 
him  ? " 

"Is  Zena'fde  Feodorovna  Ramodanofsky," 
returned  Von  Gaden.  "  She  has  inherited  her 
mother's  beauty,  and  is  more  French  than 
Russian." 

"  Is  it  possible  that  she  can  be  either  happy 
or  safe  in  such  guardianship  ?  "  I  asked,  my 
mind  full  of  the  pale  and  tearful  face  in  front 
of  the  Cathedral  of  the  Assumption. 

Von  Gaden  shook  his  head  thoughtfully. 

"  It  is  impossible  to  read  the  riddle  of  Vlad- 
imir's conduct  towards  her,"  he  said.  "If  I 
thought  the  man  had  a  conscience,  I  should  say 
it  was  troubled  with  remorse,  for  he  has  always 
seemed  just  in  his  treatment  of  his  niece.  You 
know  the  Russian  household  is  peculiar,  but  it  is 
more  liberal  than  in  the  days  when  the  '  Domos- 


THE  STORY  OF  CAIN.  45 

tr6i  '  l  was  composed,  and  the  Ramodanofsky 
home  had  been  Polish  in  aspect  since  the  days 
of  Feodor's  mother,  and  his  wife  had  made  it 
French.  Zenaide  has  been  far  better  educated 
than  the  average  Russian  girl,  and  has  had  a 
Frenchwoman  with  her  for  many  years ;  so  she 
speaks  Polish  and  French  as  readily  as  Russian. 
Until  lately,  there  has  been  apparent  accord 
between  the  uncle  and  niece ;  but  now  that  the 
boyar  is  anxious  to  arrange  a  marriage  for  her, 
I  hear  that  she  has  developed  her  father's  spirit, 
and  is  likely  to  resist  her  uncle's  authority,  as 
no  other  Russian  girl  would  dare  to  do.  A 
young  maid  is  an  ill  thing  to  guide!"  Von 
Gaden  added,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  honor  her  for  her  resistance,  since  I  be- 
lieve I  know  the  chosen  bridegroom ; "  and  I 
told  the  Jew  of  the  scene  in  the  Kremlin. 

"  Viatscheslav  Naryshkin?"  said  the  physi- 
cian, thoughtfully.  "Yes,  it  may  be  so. 
Ramodanofsky  is  a  close  adherent  of  the 
Naryshkins.  I  think  the  Czarevna  Sophia 
either  knows  or  suspects  something  ill  of  him. 
You  know  she  was  much  with  the  late  czar,  and 
learned  all  the  little  intrigues  that  had  been 
handed  down  from  her  father's  court  to  that  of 

1  A  manual  of  household  economy  of  the  time  of  Ivan  the 
Terrible. 


46  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

Feodor.  Viatscheslav  is  indeed  an  evil  fate  for 
a  pure  young  girl  like  Zenaide  Feodorovna. " 

The  fire  was  dying  down,  and  we  both  sat 
staring  at  the  embers,  Von  Gaden  shading  his 
face  with  his  hand. 

"  I  have  always  wanted  to  set  it  right,"  he 
said  musingly;  "I  have  always  intended  to  do 
something.  If  I  die  now,  the  secret  will  not 
die  with  me." 

""Was  it  of  Feodor  Ramodanofsky  that  Horn- 
yak  spoke  to-day?"  I  asked,  suddenly  remem- 
bering the  conversation. 

The  physician  nodded. 

"  I  do  not  know  what  Homyak  had  to  do  with 
it,"  he  said,  "but  he  has  an  evil  conscience; 
some  day  he  will  confess." 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  SHADOWS  ON   THE  WALL. 

BEFORE  I  left  Von  Gaden,  I  had  learned 
the  exact  locality  of  Ramodanofsky's  house.  I 
scarcely  knew  what  design  was  forming  in  my 
mind;  but  my  love  of  adventure  was  keen, 
and  the  story  I  had  just  heard  affected  me 
deeply.  If  I  was  half  in  love  before  with 
the  beautiful  stranger,  I  was  now  wholly  so 
with  the  young  orphan,  whose  peculiar  circum- 
stances appealed  to  the  romance  in  my  nature. 
If  I  had  ever  considered  obstacles  or  difficul- 
ties, I  should  not  have  allowed  myself  such  a 
day-dream;  but  I  was  resolved  upon  gaining  a 
closer  acquaintance  with  the  Ramodanofskys, 
and  I  did  not  count  the  cost. 

The  shadows  of  the  early  Russian  twilight 
had  gathered  when  I  went  out,  and  it  was 
strangely  quiet  after  the  tumult  of  the  day,  and 
yet  the  very  air  seemed  to  be  portentous ;  the 
grim-faced  houses  looked  as  if  they  were  lock- 


48  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ing  some  dark  secret  in  their  bosoms ;  and  now 
and  then  a  lurking  figure  started  from  the 
shadow  of  the  wall  and  scurried  into  a  softly 
opened  door.  As  I  walked  on,  my  own  foot- 
steps startled  an  echo  in  the  silence;  and  it  was 
almost  a  shock  to  hear,  far  off,  the  sudden  roll 
of  a  drum,  a  sound  which  came  and  died  away 
as  quickly,  leaving  behind  a  greater  quietude. 
I  had  no  love  for  the  city  —  I  was  a  Frenchman 
to  the  core;  yet  there  was  something  about 
Moscow  on  that  night  that  impressed  me  more 
deeply  than  any  city  in  which  I  had  ever  so- 
journed. There  was  a  solemnity,  a  desolation 
which  seemed  to  speak  of  the  miseries  and  sins 
of  the  suffering  masses.  I  had  been  but  lately 
at  Versailles,  in  the  midst  of  the  splendors  of 
the  Grand  Monarque's  brilliant  court,  and  here 
was  a  wondrous  contrast :  here,  too,  was  an 
absolute  monarchy,  but  without  the  master 
hand,  the  iron  grip  that  keeps  the  helm  of  state. 
Here  was  a  court  whose  ceremonial  was  as 
stately  as  any  in  the  world ;  but  how  strong  was 
the  feeling  of  instability!  I  looked  at  the 
Kremlin;  within  it  lay  the  dead  Feodor,  not 
yet  buried,  and  within  it,  too,  was  the  young 
czar,  — a  child,  and  a  tool  as  yet  in  the  hands 
of  an  intriguing  party.  I  had  known  the  Czar 
Feodor,  and  had  been  a  recipient  of  his  kind- 


THE  SHADOWS  ON  THE    WALL.  49 

ness;  and  I  knew  all  the  prominent  figures  in 
the  drama  of  to-day,  —  it  had  been  a  drama  to 
me,  and  I  had  not  dreamed,  and  did  not  dream 
that  night,  of  the  part  I  was  to  play  in  that 
great  tragedy,  which  was  approaching  swiftly, 
silently,  malignantly,  along  the  dark  streets 
and  in  the  hidden  quarters  of  the  city. 

As  I  reached  the  neighborhood  of  the  Ramo- 
danofsky  house,  I  noticed  that  I  was  no  longer 
solitary.  A  man  was  walking  along  ahead  of 
me,  and  something  in  his  figure  seemed  famil- 
iar; still,  I  slackened  my  pace,  having  no 
desire  for  company.  He  was  evidently  obser- 
vant of  my  movements,  and  as  little  inclined  to 
sociability  as  I.  He  kept  in  the  shadow  on  the 
other  side  of  the  street,  and  something  in  his 
manner  of  lurking  made  me  loosen  my  sword 
in  the  scabbard  and  feel  for  my  pistols. 

The  house  of  the  Boyar  Ramodanofsky  was 
now  close  at  hand,  and  I  looked  curiously  at 
the  dark  and  forbidding  mass  of  masonry;  it 
appeared  as  unapproachable  as  a  fortress, 
although  the  gate  of  the  courtyard  was  open, 
and  there  were  lights  in  the  windows.  Observ- 
ing my  companion  upon  the  street,  I  saw  that 
he  had  crossed  to  the  other  side,  and  was  keep- 
ing well  in  the  shadow.  It  was  evident  that  I 
could  not  reconnoiter  outside  without  being 
4 


50  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

spied  upon,  so  I  determined  upon  a  bold  course, 
and  entered  the  courtyard.  Finding  it  vacant, 
and  being  now  out  of  sight  of  the  man  in  the 
street,  I  walked  cautiously  around  to  the  side 
of  the  house,  observing  it  narrowly.  Von 
Gad  en's  story  had  awakened  the  keenest  interest 
in  my  mind,  and  I  could  not  avoid  the  thought 
of  the  boyar  lying  in  his  blood  in  that  very 
courtyard,  across  which  his  daughter's  feet 
passed  every  day,  going  and  returning  in  the 
house  of  her  father's  assassin.  It  was  a  hideous 
incongruity.  I  walked  along  cautiously,  observ- 
ing the  house  on  the  side  where  I  was;  the 
windows  were  too  high  from  the  ground  for  me 
to  look  in,  and  there  was  no  door  in  the  main 
building,  but  there  was  a  low  postern  in  the 
wing;  however,  that  portion  of  the  house  was 
so  quiet  that  I  concluded  that  it  must  be  the 
Terem,  the  part  allotted  to  the  women,  in 
accordance  with  the  eastern  custom,  still  to  a 
great  extent  prevalent  in  Russia.  The  main 
building  was  quiet  too,  although  there  were 
many  lights,  and  some  of  the  windows  cast  a 
perfect  square  of  illumination  on  the  wall  oppo- 
site, so  that  an  occasional  shadow  of  some  one 
passing  before  the  light  within  was  sharply 
defined  on  the  wall  beyond.  I  soon  decided 
which  were  the  rooms  occupied  by  the  boyar 


THE  SHADOWS  ON  THE    WALL.  51 

himself,  and  my  attention  was  concentrated 
upon  those.  My  occupation  seemed  likely  to 
be  fruitless  enough,  and  yet  I  lingered,  held 
either  by  fate,  or  the  sense  of  the  propinquity 
of  ZenaYde  Ramodanofsky.  While  I  was  loiter- 
ing there,  the  sound  of  voices  from  a  window, 
a  little  over  my  head,  attracted  my  notice,  and 
looking  about  for  a  way  to  see  into  the  room,  I 
discovered  an  irregularity  in  the  masonry, 
which  furnished  a  precarious  foothold ;  and 
being  an  expert  climber,  I  lifted  myself  up 
until  my  eyes  were  just  above  the  level  of  the 
sill.  For  a  moment  the  light  within  dazzled 
me;  then  becoming  accustomed  to  it,  I  saw  a 
large  square  apartment  furnished  with  a  luxury 
far  more  French  than  Russian,  and  at  a  table 
sat  the  Boyar  Vladimir  Ramodanofsky,  Viat- 
scheslav  Naryshkin,  and  a  tall  man,  whom  I 
recognized  as  one  of  the  unpopular  colonels  of 
the  Streltsi,  although  his  name  was  unknown  to 
me.  The  three  worthies  were  drinking  vodka, 
and  Viatscheslav  was  already  a  little  under  its 
influence.  The  table  was  across  the  room  from 
the  window,  and  though  I  heard  the  voices 
plainly  enough,  they  spoke  too  low  for  me  to 
catch  more  than  an  occasional  word;  but  I  gath- 
ered that  the  discourse  was  political,  and  was 
on  the  question  of  the  possible  adherence  of 


52  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

the  Streltsi  to  Peter's  party, — a  sore  point, 
and  one  which  was  uppermost  in  every  mind  on 
that  momentous  night.  The  colonel  had  a 
swaggering  confidence  in  the  ability  of  Prince 
Dolgoruky  and  the  officers  to  pacify  the  troops, 
which  was  not  reflected  in  the  keen  face  of 
Vladimir;  I  saw  the  contemptuous  attention 
that  he  bestowed  upon  his  visitor,  probably 
estimating  readily  the  amount  of  blustering  im- 
portance that  was  assumed  on  account  of  the 
presence  of  the  czar's  cousin.  Viatscheslav 
himself  was  taking  far  less  interest  in  the  dis- 
pute than  he  was  in  his  vodka  and  caviare;  I 
knew  him  to  be  a  gourmand,  and  watched  his 
performance  with  scornful  amusement ;  here 
was  a  suitor  who  could,  at  least,  do  justice  to 
the  refreshments. 

After  a  while,  the  boyar  brought  the  dispute 
to  a  close,  and  the  officer,  evidently  feeling  that 
his  company  was  superfluous,  withdrew,  leaving 
Naryshkin  still  hugging  his  cup  of  vodka.  But 
as  soon  as  Viatscheslav  found  himself  alone 
with  the  boyar,  I  saw  that  the  conversation  was 
immediately  becoming  more  personal,  and  they 
got  their  heads  together  over  the  table.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  Ramodanofsky  felt  some 
contempt  for  his  guest,  although  he  treated  him 
with  marked  courtesy.  After  a  little,  it  became 


THE  SHADOWS  ON  THE    WALL,  53 

evident  that  Naryshkin  was  asking  to  see 
Zenai'de,  and  the  boyar,  summoning  an  attend- 
ant, sent  him  in  quest  of  his  niece.  In  spite 
of  my  difficult  and  precarious  position,  my 
interest  was  now  so  keen  that  I  would  not  have 
quitted  my  place  but  to  save  my  life.  The 
servant's  face  showed  at  once  that  he  did  not 
relish  his  errand,  and  after  a  prolonged  absence, 
he  returned  with  a  message  that  Mademoiselle 
Zenai'de  would  see  no  one  at  that  hour.  The 
boyar  looked  like  a  thunder-cloud,  but  making 
a  brief  apology  to  Viatscheslav,  he  left  the 
room  to  fetch  his  niece  himself. 

I  looked  narrowly  at  the  house  to  see  if  I 
could  ascertain  which  window  belonged  to  the 
young  girl.  A  bright  light  from  one  in  the 
wing  shone  full  on  the  wall  opposite,  and  pres- 
ently, on  that  square  of  illumination,  I  saw  out- 
lined distinctly  the  shadow  of  a  woman's  figure. 
Convinced  at  once  that  it  was  Zenalde's  shadow, 
I  watched  it  with  a  kind  of  fascination;  at  first 
she  stood  alone,  and  by  her  pose  and  gesture 
seemed  to  be  talking  to  some  one,  talking  with 
excitement,  and  making  occasionally  a  vehe- 
ment gesture.  Then  on  the  bright  square  was 
cast  another  silhouette,  that  of  a  man,  —  of 
Ram  od  an  of  sky ;  he,  too,  was  making  gestures 
even  more  vehement  than  hers;  at  first,  he 


54  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

seemed  to  plead  with  and  then  went  on  to 
threaten  her.  I  could  read  the  whole  scene  in 
that  dumb  shadow-show  upon  the  wall.  Sud- 
denly he  struck  her,  and  then  both  shadows 
slipped  off  the  bright  space,  and  in  my  anger 
and  surprise,  I  dropped  to  the  ground. 

I  thought  of  the  murdered  father  and  the 
defenseless  girl,  and  then  I  counted  the  win- 
dows; the  lighted  one  was  the  third  from  the 
main  building,  and  on  the  second  floor.  How 
could  I  reach  it?  Not  by  climbing;  then  I 
bethought  myself  of  the  postern  in  that  very 
wing,  and  went  feeling  my  way  along  in  search 
of  it,  my  naked  sword  in  my  hand.  There 
were  strange  thoughts  in  my  heart  just  then, 
and  it  would  have  cost  the  boyar  dear  to 
meet  me  in  that  gloomy  court.  I  found  the 
postern  and  tried  it;  to  my  joy,  it  yielded  to 
my  hand,  and  I  found  myself  in  a  dark,  narrow 
hall.  For  a  moment  I  stood  nonplussed,  not 
knowing  which  way  to  turn;  but  as  luck  would 
have  it,  a  noise  to  the  left  sent  me  to  the  right, 
and  finding  a  door,  I  opened  it  and  stumbled 
upon  a  staircase.  A  light  in  the  hall  above 
served  to  make  the  darkness  visible,  and  I  crept 
cautiously  up  the  stairs,  a  step  at  a  time.  Be- 
fore I  gained  the  top,  the  closing  of  a  door 
sounded  somewhat  sharply,  and  with  it  all 


THE  SHADOWS  ON   THE    WALL.  55 

gleam  of  light  went  out,  so  I  knew  that  it 
had  proceeded  from  a  room.  Reaching  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  I  paused  to  take  my  bearings. 
Coming  in  at  the  door,  I  had  turned  to  the  right, 
so  the  stairs  had  led  me  toward  the  main  build- 
ing, and  the  window  was  the  third  away  from  it ; 
I  must  turn  now  to  the  left.  With  this  small 
clue,  I  felt  my  way  along  the  corridor,  passing 
two  doors,  and  pausing  at  the  third.  There 
was  a  light  within,  for  it  shone  through  the 
chink  at  the  bottom,  and  I  heard  a  woman's 
voice.  Remembering  only  the  shadow-drama 
on  the  wall,  and  the  orphan's  helplessness,  I 
opened  the  door,  without  a  thought  of  the 
strangeness  of  my  presence  and  my  errand. 

The  light  within  fell  full  upon  me  on  the 
threshold,  and  on  my  drawn  sword.  There  was 
confusion  and  a  startled  cry,  one  woman  rush- 
ing away  to  the  farther  door;  but  the  other  re- 
mained where  she  was,  —  a  slender  young  girl} 
standing  in  the  center  of  the  room,  her  pose 
one  of  dignity,  her  fair  hair  falling  in  heavy 
braids  on  either  shoulder,  and  a  red  mark  show- 
ing angrily  on  her  white  cheek.  It  was 
Zenai'de  Feodorovna. 


CHAPTER   V. 

ZfiNAIDE. 

UNDER  Z6na!de's  startled  and  half-fright- 
ened gaze,  I  felt  myself  a  fool.  My  ardent 
knight-errantry  dwindled,  and  I  stood  revealed, 
a  rash  intruder  on  the  privacy  of  a  Russian 
household. 

Zenaide  was  the  first  to  recover  her  self- 
possession;  she  had  divined  my  nationality,  for 
she  addressed  me  in  French. 

"Monsieur  has  made  some  strange  error," 
she  said  in  a  dignified  way,  "and  stumbled 
upon  the  private  quarter  of  the  house.  His 
errand  is  with  my  uncle,  no  doubt. " 

I  was  at  loss  to  explain  my  blundering  ardor. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  stammered,  feeling  my 
face  burn,  "  I  had  cause  to  think  you  were  in 
need  of  assistance  —  I  —  pardon  me,  I  do  but 
increase  my  awkwardness. " 

She  looked  at  me  strangely,  a  new  emotion 
dyeing  her  cheek  with  scarlet. 


Z£NAIDE.  57 

"Monsieur  is  kind,"  she  said  a  little  haugh- 
tily; "I  am  indebted  to  my  uncle's  friend,  I 
presume,  monsieur  —  " 

She  paused,  and  her  eyes  sought  mine  with  a 
keen  interrogation.  I  stood  erect;  something 
in  her  tone  stung  me. 

"I  am  not  your  uncle's  friend,  Mademoiselle 
Ramodanof sky, "  I  said  a  little  defiantly;  "I 
am  a  stranger  to  him,  a  French  gentleman, 
Philippe  de  Brousson. " 

There  was  a  startled  cry  from  the  farther  side 
of  the  room,  where  the  other  woman  had  re- 
mained; she  came  across  now,  staring  at  me 
strangely. 

"Philippe  de  Brousson!"  she  cried  in  a 
high  French  voice.  "It  is  Philippe,  little 
Philippe!" 

It  was  my  turn  to  stare  in  blank  astonish- 
ment. She  was  a  tall  angular  woman,  with 
near-sighted  eyes,  and  gray  curls  dancing  on 
her  temples.  I  did  not  know  her,  but  it  was 
evident  that  she  recognized  me  with  ecstasy. 
Ze'na'fde  was  looking  at  her  with  a  reflection  of 
my  amazement. 

"Mademoiselle  Eudoxie,"  she  said  warn- 
ingly,  "you  are  very  short-sighted;  you  may 
have  made  another  mistake." 

The  name  struck  me  at  once  as  familiar,  and 


58  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

I  looked  at  the  woman  with  a  sudden   vague 
recollection. 

"You  know  me,  Monsieur  Philippe?"  she 
said,  regarding  me  with  a  smile  on  her  quaint 
thin  face;  "you  remember  old  Eudoxie  Varien, 
who  taught  you  and  little  Marie,  the  saints  rest 
her  soul ! " 

It  was  the  governess  who  had  watched  over 
my  little  sister  and  me  in  the  old  chateau,  the 
Tour  de  Brousson.  I  remembered  her  very  well 
now,  and  grasped  her  hand  warmly,  a  thousand 
memories  of  childhood  and  my  dead  sister 
thronging  into  my  mind. 

"  If  we  had  met  at  any  other  moment,  Made- 
moiselle Eudoxie,"  I  said,  "I  should  have 
known  you  at  once." 

The  tears  were  shining  in  the  good  woman's 
eyes,  and  with  a  sudden  impulse,  she  stood  on 
tip-toe  and  kissed  my  cheek. 

"Oh,  little  Philippe!"  she  exclaimed  tremu- 
lously. "  Forgive  an  old  woman,  M.  de  Brous- 
son; you  bring  back  the  happiest  hours  of 
my  life.  Do  you  remember  the  rose-garden 
behind  the  chateau,  and  the  day  the  hawk  was 
killed  ? " 

I  remembered  it  well,  and  in  that  far  coun- 
try, in  the  upper  room  of  a  Russian  boyar's 
house,  the  perfume  of  the  roses  of  Provence 


ZZNAIDE.  59 

seemed  to  float  upon  my  senses ;  and  I  saw 
again  the  gray  chateau  with  its  graceful  turrets 
and  neat,  beautiful  garden,  with  its  hedges  and 
its  terraces.  Childhood  passes  so  swiftly,  and 
never  again  returns  the  light  heart,  the  innocent 
mind!  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  and  I  looked 
long  at  each  other,  and  my  childish  affection 
for  the  kindly  governess  awoke  in  a  genuine 
regard  for  this  faded  woman. 

Recollecting  myself,  I  turned  to  apologize  to 
Mademoiselle  Ramodanofsky,  but  she  was  re- 
garding me  with  quite  a  different  expression; 
my  strange  entrance  was  evidently  forgotten, 
and  she  was  smiling  as  she  looked  at  Mademoi- 
selle Eudoxie' s  flushed  and  tearful  face. 

"Pardon  me,  mademoiselle,"  I  said;  "I  tres- 
pass upon  your  courtesy,  but  this  meeting  was 
as  unexpected  as  my  entrance  here." 

"  I  rejoice  to  see  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  so 
happy,"  Zenaide  replied  graciously;  and  then, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  "Will  M.  de 
Brousson  be  seated  ?  " 

Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  looked  at  her  in  a 
kind  of  panic. 

"Your  uncle,  Ze*nalde!"  she  said  hastily. 

The  young  girl's  eyes  flashed  with  sudden 
fire. 

"  These  are  my  own  apartments, "  she  replied, 


60  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

*  with  a  touch  of  hauteur,  "and  my  uncle  will 
scarcely  intrude  here  again  to-night." 

I  knew,  however,  that  they  were  in  a 
dilemma,  and  that  my  presence  there  was  con- 
trary to  usage  and  propriety.  I  was  the  more 
willing  to  depart,  since  I  felt  that  Mademoi- 
selle Eudoxie  was  not  only  a  protection  to 
Ze'na'ide,  but  a  medium  of  communication.  I 
had  not  found  courage  to  explain  my  errand. 

"  I  will  not  intrude  longer  upon  your  hospi- 
tality, mademoiselle,"  I  said  to  Zenalde;  "but 
perhaps  another  time  I  may  speak  with  Made- 
moiselle Eudoxie  and  with  —  you." 

A  mischievous  smile  gleamed  suddenly  in 
Ze'nai'de' s  blue  eyes. 

"  Mademoiselle  Varien,  light  this  gentleman 
down  the  stairs,"  she  said  quietly.  "And  you, 
M.  de  Brousson,  have  my  thanks  for  —  for  your 
kind  solicitude,"  she  added,  blushing  deeply 
and  holding  out  her  hand. 

I  bowed  low  over  it,  and  in  some  blundering 
way  bade  her  adieu,  and  went  with  Mademoiselle 
Eudoxie  along  the  corridor,  bearing  the  light 
for  her,  and  feeling  both  exultant  and  foolish  at 
the  termination  of  my  enterprise.  At  the  end 
of  the  passage  we  stumbled  upon  a  servant, 
who  stared  not  a  little  at  the  sight  of  a  stranger 
lighting  the  governess  down  the  stairs.  When 


ZZNAIDE.  6 1 

we  reached  the  lower  floor,  and  were  alone, 
mademoiselle  plucked  at  my  cloak. 

"Monsieur  Philippe,"  she  said,  her  short- 
sighted eyes  trying  to  search  my  face,  "  how  did 
you  happen  to  come  here  to-night  ?  " 

It  was  a  relief  that  I  could  at  least  explain 
matters  fully  to  her,  and  she  would  probably 
repeat  it  to  Zenai'de.  I  told  her  of  my  adven- 
ture in  the  courtyard,  and  of  the  shadows  on 
the  wall.  She  was  still  a  little  puzzled,  for 
of  course  I  did  not  speak  of  Von  Gaden's 
confidence. 

"Did  the  boyar  really  strike  Ze"na"ide?"  I 
asked. 

"I  fear  so,"  mademoiselle  replied,  a  troubled 
expression  on  her  face;  "they  had  a  stormy 
interview,  at  which  I  was  not  present,  and  I 
saw  the  red  mark  on  dear  Zenaide's  cheek." 

"  He  is  cruel  to  her,  then  ?  "  I  said  sternly. 

Mademoiselle  stammered  a  little.  "  I  cannot 
say  cruel,"  she  said.  "I  have  been  here  ten 
years  with  Zena'fde,  and  he  has  always  allowed 
her  to  have  everything  she  wished,  but  without 
seeming  fond  of  her.  He  is  a  strange  man.  I 
can  almost  say  that  he  avoided  the  sight  of  the 
child;  but  now  all  these  things  are  changed. 
He  is  anxious  for  her  to  marry,  and  of  course 
has  his  own  ends  to  serve,  and  cares  not  at  all 


62  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

for  Z6na'fde's  happiness.  I  tried  to  mold  her 
mind  to  gentle  submission,  foreseeing  this  end; 
but  Zena'fde  has,  they  tell  me,  her  father's  will, 
and  she  will  not  be  guided ;  and  now  the  house 
is  in  a  constant  tumult  because  of  this  match 
that  she  will  not  hear  of." 

"I  honor  her  the  more,"  I  said  at  once;  "no 
woman  should  wed  Viatscheslav. " 

Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  stared  at  me  in  mild 
surprise,  but  shrank  back  in  horror  when  I  told 
her  briefly  a  little  of  the  character  of  the  profli- 
gate suitor.  She  wrung  her  thin  hands. 

"Alas!"  she  exclaimed,  "what  will  she 
do?  There  is  no  escape;  the  authority  of 
the  guardian  is  even  more  absolute  here  than 
in  France,  and  she  has  no  one  to  fight  for  her, 
poor  girl !  " 

"Except  you  and  me,  mademoiselle,"  I 
added  softly. 

The  old  woman  looked  at  me  with  a  sudden 
suspicion  in  her  glance,  followed  by  an  expres- 
sion of  yet  deeper  anxiety. 

"  You  were  ever  too  hot-blooded  and  hasty, 
Philippe,"  she  said,  but  I  detected  a  note  of 
tender  sympathy  in  her  voice.  "  You  and  I 
would  but  make  an  evil  case  worse.  I  see  no 
help  for  Zenaide.  Peter  was  elected  to-day, 
and  the  Naryshkins  are  in  power." 


Z&NAIDE.  63 

I  drew  closer  to  her.  "  Is  there  any  one 
about  ?  "  I  said. 

She  started  as  if  she  had  been  shot,  and 
looked  nervously  behind  her.  I  smiled,  know- 
ing what  a  coward  mademoiselle  always  was. 
She  assured  me  now  that  we  were  out  of 
earshot. 

"Then  I  may  speak  of  forbidden  subjects,"  I 
said.  "Take  heart,  mademoiselle;  the  struggle 
may  not  be  over.  No  one  believes  that  the 
Streltsi  will  support  Peter  Alexeivitch,  and  if 
the  Miloslavskys  rise,  who  knows  what  may 
not  happen?  Certainly  the  Naryshkins  will  be 
thrust  aside,  and  this  old  boyar  will  never 
barter  his  niece  to  an  exile  or  a  fugitive !  " 

"  Now  the  saints  grant  that  it  may  be  so !  " 
exclaimed  mademoiselle,  piously.  "  But  I  have 
little  hope  that  Zenai'de  can  escape;  he  is 
urging  on  a  hasty  marriage." 

I  was  not  so  despondent ;  I  thought  of  Von 
Gaden,  and  a  plan  was  already  forming  in  my 
mind.  I  told  her  where  my  quarters  were. 

"If  there  is  any  trouble  here,"  I  said  ear- 
nestly, "find  some  means  of  sending  me  a 
message." 

Then,  seeing  the  doubt  and  perplexity  in  her 
face,  I  went  on  impressively :  "  It  is  your  duty, 
dear  mademoiselle,"  I  said;  "you  must  not  con- 


64  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

nive  at  this  sacrifice.  You  must  save  Z6naide 
if  you  can,  and  do  not  despise  my  help;  I  may 
find  more  means  of  assistance  than  you  dream 
of.  Where  there  is  a  will,  there  is  a  way! 
Therefore,  be  sure  to  inform  me  if  any  danger 
threatens  Mademoiselle  Ramodanofsky. " 

I  saw  at  once  that  I  had  impressed  her; 
Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  was  naturally  one  of 
those  women  who  cling  to  any  man  as  a  better 
protector  than  their  own  wits,  and  she  evidently 
had  an  exaggerated  conception  of  my  impor- 
tance. At  least,  she  promised  readily  enough 
to  keep  me  informed  if  she  could  find  a  trusty 
messenger,  but  told  me  of  a  surer  means  of 
communication  by  observing  her  window,  which 
overlooked  the  lane  on  the  other  side  of  the 
wing.  There  was  a  romance  about  it  all, 
which  I  saw  was  delightful  to  the  gentle  old 
maid,  who  had  lived  only  in  the  reflection  of 
the  romances  of  others.  She  went  with  me  to 
the  postern,  and  bade  me  a  tender  and  half 
tearful  adieu.  She  closed  the  door  behind  me, 
and  I  had  advanced  a  few  steps,  when  I  heard 
her  open  it  again  hastily,  and  come  running 
after  me.  I  turned,  expecting  some  important 
information  which  she  had  forgotten.  She  laid 
a  trembling  hand  on  my  arm,  and  approached 
her  lips  close  to  my  ear. 


Z£NAIDE.  65 

"Monsieur  Philippe,"  she  whispered,  "for- 
give me  for  speaking  out,  but  I  have  lived  ten 
years  in  Russia,  and  I  know  their  ways.  Do 
not  fall  in  love  with  her ! " 

I  drew  myself  up  haughtily ;  I  was  angry. 

"If  you  intend  any  inference  derogatory  to 
Mademoiselle  Zenaide  —  "I  began. 

"  No  —  no !  "  she  cried  hastily,  almost  tear- 
fully. "What  a  traitor  you  must  think  me! 
Zenaide  is  the  dearest  girl  in  the  world;  the 
sweetest  I  ever  knew,  save  one,  and  that  was 
your  own  dead  sister,  Philippe.  But  these 
Russians!"  she  looked  over  her  shoulder  as  if 
she  saw  a  ghost,  "they  would  kill  you,  dear 
boy!" 

I  laughed  under  my  breath;  but  still  I  re- 
membered where  I  stood,  and  the  murdered 
Feodor. 

"I  will  risk  it,  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie,"  I 
said  lightly.  "  I  would  risk  it  gladly  to  win 
Zenaide  Feodorovna !  " 

"  Alas !  "  exclaimed  the  old  maid,  tearfully. 
"  I  feared  it  —  I  feared  it !  You  were  ever  so, 
Monsieur  Philippe:  quick  as  a  flash,  and  hot- 
headed. No  good  can  come  of  it !  " 

"Nonsense,  mademoiselle!"  I  cried  almost 
gayly ;  "  I  have  not  touched  her  heart  yet.  Go 
back,  or  some  one  will  find  us  here  whispering, 

5 


66  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

and    then,    indeed,    there    will    be    a    bloody 

catastrophe. " 

Remembering  that   prudence  is   the   better 

part  of  valor,  she  retreated,  but  shaking  her 

head  in  melancholy  foreboding,  the  last  words 

that  I  heard  being  — 

"  Poor  ZenaYde !  —  poor  Philippe !  " 

And  the   conjunction  of   names,    instead  of 

pointing  mademoiselle's  warning,  thrilled  me 

with  an  absurd  happiness. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

A    KITCHEN    FEUD. 

WHEN  the  postern  had  finally  closed  upon 
mademoiselle,  I  advanced  cautiously  through 
the  darkness.  It  had  occurred  to  me  that  the 
outer  gate  might  be  closed  for  the  night,  in 
which  case  I  should  find  myself  caught  in  a 
trap.  The  house  was  dark  and  quiet  now,  the 
boyar's  guest  having  evidently  departed. 

To  my  consternation,  the  front  gate  was 
indeed  locked,  and  I  stood  perplexed.  A  noise 
from  the  other  side  of  the  house  suggested  a 
possible  exit  by  the  kitchen  way,  and  I  crept 
cautiously  along  close  to  the  wall,  looking  for 
it.  The  door  at  the  back  of  the  house  stood 
wide  open,  and  the  stream  of  light  from  it, 
while  it  increased  my  risk,  served  also  to  show 
me  the  side  gate,  standing  ajar.  I  had  not  a 
moment  to  lose;  to  be  caught  here  and  com- 
pelled to  explain  my  presence  to  the  boyar 
would  be  a  sorry  fate.  I  heard  loud  talking 


68  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

and  laughing  in  the  kitchen,  which  a  little  reas- 
sured me,  as  the  servants  were  evidently  enjoy- 
ing a  merry  evening,  and  therefore  less  likely 
to  be  watchful.  A  little  natural  curiosity,  and 
also  a  desire  to  learn  as  much  of  Zena'fde's  sur- 
roundings as  I  could,  impelled  me  to  approach 
near  enough  to  peep  into  the  interior :  a  low- 
ceiled  room,  stained  with  smoke  from  the  huge 
fireplace,  and  gloomy  as  such  a  place  could  be, 
when  lighted  and  filled  with  people.  The  cook, 
with  naked,  brawny  arms  akimbo,  stood  before 
the  fire  turning  some  meat  upon  the  spit;  and 
a  dozen  other  serfs  were  gathered  about  a  table 
playing  at  dice,  or  watching  it,  and  drinking 
kvas.  It  was  not  an  attractive  picture,  not  even 
homely ;  but  there  was  a  surprise  there  for  me : 
I  saw  in  the  group  the  cowardly  fellow  who  had 
been  whipped  in  the  contest  in  the  Red  Place. 
I  remembered  his  face  well;  it  had  still  some- 
thing of  the  evil  and  mean  expression  that  had 
marked  it  when  Peter  Lykof  dragged  his  servant 
off  his  fallen  adversary.  The  place  he  occu- 
pied now  at  the  table,  and  his  dress,  declared 
him  to  be  no  less  a  person  than  the  boyar's 
major-domo.  The  fellow  had  an  evil  face  and 
a  hang-dog  look  about  the  eyes,  and  I  was  not 
pleased  to  find  him  occupying  a  post  of  trust 
in  the  house.  One  could  easily  buy  his  soul 


A   KITCHEN  FEUD.  69 

tor  a  couple  of  francs,  being  sure  that  he  would 
sell  again  to  the  next  highest  bidder,  and  so 
cancel  the  previous  bad  bargain.  I  was  amused 
to  see  that  the  miserable  coward  of  a  few 
hours  ago  was  now  a  considerable  braggart, 
assuming  an  air  of  authority  among  his  fellow- 
servants. 

There  was  little  danger  that  my  presence 
would  be  observed,  and  I  walked  slowly  across 
the  courtyard,  and  slipping  through  the  half 
open  gate,  stood  in  the  street.  It  was  dark,  but 
yet  it  seemed  to  me  that  as  I  appeared  a  figure 
dashed  away  from  the  postern  and  crept  along 
by  the  wall.  Remembering  that  I  had  noticed 
a  similar  appearance  at  the  front  of  the  house, 
I  half  unsheathed  my  sword  and  advanced  in  the 
direction  in  which  the  figure  had  gone,  my 
taste  for  adventure  still  keen,  and  moreover 
determined  to  know  if  any  spy  lurked  about  the 
Ramodanofsky  house.  The  darkness  and  the 
shadow  of  the  wall  were  both  unfavorable  to  my 
purpose ;  but  nothing  daunted,  I  proceeded,  my 
eyes  fixed  keenly  on  the  darkest  portion  under 
the  overhanging  cornice.  Seeing  nothing,  I 
was  not  a  little  startled  by  a  sudden  blow  which, 
just  missing  my  temple,  fell  roundly  on  my 
shoulder.  I  sprang  aside,  and  drawing  my 
sword,  was  on  the  defensive;  but  my  unknown 


70  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

adversary  leaped  upon  me  with  the  agility  and 
ferocity  of  a  wild  animal,  and  I  found  my  sword 
arm  pinioned  as  we  closed  in  a  fierce  grapple. 
I  had  no  desire  to  rouse  the  house  by  any  out- 
cry, and,  for  some  reason,  my  assailant  was 
equally  silent.  I  had  as  much  as  I  could  do  to 
keep  his  hands  from  my  throat. 

"Ma  foil"  I  exclaimed  bitterly,  "this  is 
Russian  fighting!  " 

My  words  had  a  magical  effect ;  my  strange 
adversary  released  me  and  stumbled  back. 
But  my  blood  was  up,  and  it  was  my  turn  to 
attack  him;  however,  he  dodged  me  with  won- 
derful dexterity. 

"Leave  me  alone,  your  excellency,"  he  said 
in  poor  French;  "I  struck  by  mistake.  I  beg 
your  pardon." 

His  voice  was  familiar,  and  putting  two  and 
two  together,  in  a  flash  of  intuition,  I  hit  upon 
the  truth. 

"  You  are  Michael  Gregorievitch ! "  I  ex- 
claimed, "Peter  Lykof's  attendant;  and  you 
took  me  for  your  friend  the  steward." 

"Even  so,  my  lord,"  he  admitted  with  evi- 
dent reluctance  in  his  tone.  "  My  master  would 
be  very  angry  if  he  knew  of  my  mistake." 

"Unless  my  memory  plays  me  false,  your 
master  forbade  you  to  meddle  with  this  same 


A   KITCHEN  FEUD.  71 

steward,"  I  remarked  dryly.  "His  displeasure 
does  not  seem  to  affect  you  deeply." 

"  He  would  not  submit  as  tamely  as  I  do  in  a 
like  case,"  returned  Michael,  sullenly. 

"I  must  admit,"  I  said  lightly,  "that  I  can 
understand  your  repugnance  to  the  sleek  stew- 
ard; his  countenance  is  sufficiently  unlovely  to 
tempt  an  honest  man  to  beat  him  ;  but  the  ardor 
of  your  resentment  seems  a  little  ill-timed  and 
treacherous. " 

"  Treacherous !  "  The  man  was  choking  with 
his  intense  anger.  "No  treachery  could  be 
great  enough  for  Boris  Polotsky !  " 

My  interest  was  roused,  and  moreover  I  saw 
the  possibility  of  obtaining  a  warm  adherent 
in  this  fellow. 

"You  have  a  grievance,  Michael,"  I  said 
pleasantly,  "and  I  sympathize  warmly  with 
your  detestation  of  this  man ;  what  is  your  espe- 
cial wrong  ?  " 

The  fellow  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  I 
seemed  to  feel  his  keen  eyes  trying  to  see  my 
face  in  the  darkness. 

"I  have  suffered  many  wrongs  from  him,"  he 
said  bitterly,  falling  into  the  Russian  tongue, 
and  therefore  speaking  more  volubly ;  "  he  is  a 
very  devil,  and  the  devil's  emissary.  In  every 
way  in  which  one  man  can  hurt  another,  he  has 
injured  me. " 


72  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"For  instance,  wedding  your  sweetheart ?"  I 
suggested  lightly. 

The  man  swore  under  his  breath. 

"  He  stole  my  wife  away  from  me,  for  one 
thing,  and  afterwards  beat  her  to  death !  "  he 
exclaimed  passionately. 

I  started;  what  a  fit  servant  for  Vladimir 
Sergheievitch ! 

"At  least,  she  was  punished  for  her  infi- 
delity," I  remarked  dryly. 

"  She  was  more  foolish  than  wicked  at  the 
first,"  the  fellow  protested  with  a  break  in  his 
harsh  voice;  "but  that  smooth-tongued  fellow 
made  her  his  tool  and  dupe.  He  is  well 
placed,"  he  added  vindictively,  "a  fiend,  and 
the  servant  of  one ! "  and  he  shook  his  fist 
vehemently  at  the  dark  house. 

My  mind  was  full  of  speculations;  it  was 
evident  that  there  was  something  here  that  did 
not  appear  upon  the  surface. 

"  You  have  a  cause  of  complaint,  then,  against 
the  Boyar  Ramodanofsky  also  ?  "  I  asked  with 
an  assumption  of  carelessness. 

I  could  feel  rather  than  see  that  the  man 
received  a  shock  at  my  words,  suddenly  awak- 
ening to  the  fact  that  he  was  making  admissions 
that  might  be  dangerous. 

"I   have   said    too   much,"   he    stammered. 


A   KITCHEN  FEUD.  73 

"There  is  too  great  a  gulf  between  the  boyar 
and  a  humble  man  like  me  for  any  quarrel." 

"Ay,"  I  said,  with  a  purpose,  "unless  you 
take  to  heart  your  master's  grievances." 

There  was  a  pause.  I  knew  that  I  had 
startled  the  fellow,  and  he  was  not  sufficiently 
adroit  to  escape  from  the  trap  into  which  he  had 
fallen;  I  could  hear  his  labored  breath,  and 
divined  that  he  was  in  a  cold  sweat  of  anxiety 
and  alarm. 

"My  master  has  no  grievances,"  he  blurted 
out,  evidently  sore  pressed  for  an  evasion.  "  I 
am  but  a  fool  to  speak  of  my  own. " 

"  Your  master  strikes  me  as  one  who  might 
have  many,"  I  replied  coolly;  then,  taking  pity 
on  a  confusion  that  I  understood  without  seeing 
it:  "You  have  nothing  to  fear,"  I  said  reassur- 
ingly ;  "  I  am  not  a  friend  of  the  boyar' s,  though 
I  did  come  out  of  his  gate, "  and  I  laughed  a  little, 
silently,  at  the  thought  of  my  strange  exit. 

"Your  excellency  is  wise,"  the  fellow  ex- 
claimed earnestly;  "no  man  is  safe  in  such 
friendship." 

"  Like  master  like  man,  you  think,  then,  my 
good  Michael,"  I  said  lightly.  "It  is  certain 
that  I  shall  remember  your  fists  fora  while,  and 
I  venture  to  predict  that  Polotsky  will  presently 
have  enough  of  them." 


74  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"I  beg  your  pardon  a  thousand  times,  my 
lord,"  stammered  the  man,  evidently  divided 
between  a  desire  to  establish  himself  in  my 
good  graces,  and  to  escape  my  inquiries. 

"  You  have  it  freely,"  I  said  laughing,  "  since 
I  escaped  with  a  whole  crown;  next  time  be 
sure  of  your  adversary,  and  then  be  thorough 
in  your  castigation;  but  take  my  advice  and 
fight  by  day,  in  the  open,  like  a  man." 

"  It  is  rare  for  me  to  get  the  chance,"  Michael 
protested;  "he  is  a  sneak,  and  hides  himself 
away  in  secure  places." 

"Such  vermin  usually  do,"  I  replied  calmly; 
"however,  I  wish  you  good-night  and  good 
luck,  only  be  sure  and  be  thorough  next 
time." 

As  I  walked  away  down  the  street  I  laughed 
a  little  to  myself  at  the  absurdity  of  my 
adventure,  ending,  as  it  had,  in  a  narrow 
escape  from  a  thrashing  at  the  hands  of  a 
lackey.  I  felt  confident  that  Zenalde  would 
soon  be  rid  of  one  of  her  uncle's  vilest  tools, 
for  Michael  would  probably  murder  Polotsky 
before  many  days;  and  I  reflected  that  a  kitchen 
feud  was  not  without  its  advantages. 

It  was  now  late,  and  I  proceeded  directly  to 
my  own  quarters,  and  found  that  my  man  had 
my  supper  waiting  for  me.  Pierrot  was  an 


A   KITCHEN  FEUD.  75 

invaluable  servant :  devoted,  accomplished,  and 
discreet.  I  had  obtained  much  useful  informa- 
tion from  this  quarter,  and  I  could  always  de- 
pend upon  his  fidelity;  in  fact,  it  was  only  that 
which  kept  him  in  Russia,  for  he  hated  it  with 
a  cordiality  only  equalled  by  his  smooth  appear- 
ance of  complacence.  It  had  cost  me  not  a 
little  trouble  to  have  him  instructed  in  the 
Russian  tongue;  but  he  amply  repaid  me  by 
the  usefulness  that  resulted  from  his  acquire- 
ment :  without  it  he  could  have  been  of  little 
service,  for  it  was  almost  impossible  to  find  a 
humble  Russian  who  understood  French,  or  any 
language  but  his  own.  In  that  day  accomplish- 
ments were  not  frequent,  and  few  Russians 
spoke  French:  Prince  Basil  Galitsyn,  who  was 
in  advance  of  his  class,  resorting  to  Latin  in  his 
intercourse  with  foreigners. 

I  was  tired,  and  my  appetite  had  been  sharp- 
ened by  a  continued  fast,  so  I  sat  down  to  my 
supper  in  a  very  good  humor.  Pierrot  waited 
upon  me  with  silent  dexterity,  and  then,  retir- 
ing to  a  little  distance,  stood  watching  me  with 
folded  arms,  and  an  air  which  I  was  not  slow 
to  interpret :  he  had  news,  and  longed  to  im- 
part it. 

"Well,  Pierrot,"  I  said  at  last,  "were  you 
in  the  Grand  Square  to-day  ?  " 


76  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"Yes,  M.   le  Vicomte,"  he  replied  eagerly; 
"and  was  it  not  a  stirring  sight?  " 
.     "Very,"  I  answered  dryly;  "and  what  is  the 
feeling  among  the  people,  Pierrot?     Are  they 
pleased  with  the  election  ?  " 

Pierrot  shook  his  head  with  the  air  of  a  sage. 

"The  people  have  not  much  to  do  with  it 
after  all,"  he  said  gravely.  "The  rabble  have 
not  the  intelligence  of  our  peasantry." 

This  was  a  heavy  judgment,  for  Pierrot,  as 
an  old  retainer,  looked  down  upon  the  peas- 
antry as  the  scum  of  the  earth. 

"It  is  the  soldiers  here,"  he  went  on,  evi- 
dently glad  to  speak  his  mind;  "they  have  the 
upper  hand.  I  can't  understand  this  Streltsi." 

I  laughed.  "  Few  of  us  can,  I  suspect, 
Pierrot,"  I  said;  "the  Streltsi,  or  archers,  were 
established  by  Ivan  the  Terrible,  as  a  kind  of 
national  guard.  Their  duties  descend  from 
father  to  son,  and  they  have  ever  been  a  privi- 
leged class." 

"They  are  ill  to  guide,  monsieur,"  Pierrot 
remarked  sagely,  as  he  handed  me  the  wine. 

"And  what  do  they  think?  "  I  inquired,  not 
a  little  amused  but  also  curious. 

"  They  are  angry, "  Pierrot  replied,  lowering 
his  voice  as  if  he  fancied  that  one  of  them  was 
under  the  table ;  "  they  do  not  love  the  Czarina 


A   KITCHEN  FEUD.  77 

Natalia's  relations  and  — "  Pierrot  glanced 
cautiously  over  his  shoulder;  "the  Czarevna 
Sophia  has  been  trying  to  influence  them  for 
the  Czarevitch  Ivan.  There  are  twenty-two 
regiments,  and  only  one  of  them  is  favorable  to 
the  young  czar." 

"All  that  seems  to  be  apparent  enough, 
Pierrot,"  I  remarked  quietly. 

"That  is  not  all,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said 
eagerly;  "they  are  plotting  against  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  Streltsi ;  they  hate  both  the  Princes 
Dolgoruky  and  their  own  officers.  It  is 
rumored  to-day  that  there  will  be  a  riot  if  some- 
thing is  not  done,  and  if  there  is!"  Pierrot 
lifted  his  eyes  and  hands,  a  picture  of  horror. 

"What  will  be  the  consequence?"  I  asked, 
though  I  knew  well  enough,  and  it  took  the 
relish  away  from  my  supper. 

"If  the  officers  are  not  sacrificed,"  Pierrot 
said  in  a  dreadful  undertone,  "they  will  have 
blood,  and  it  will  be  the  boyars,  perhaps  the 
Czarevitch  Peter." 

"The  czar,  you  mean,"  I  corrected  testily, 
for  I  knew  that  he  was  touching  the  truth  very 
nearly.  "They  will  not  dare  to  harm  him." 

Pierrot  shook  his  head  gloomily. 

"You  have  not  heard  them,  M.  le  Vicomte," 
he  said  in  a  tone  of  melancholy  pity  for  my 


78  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

credulity;  "they  are  after  blood,  like  wolves; 
and  if  it  comes  to  that,  there  will  not  be  a 
house  safe  for  a  boyar  to  hide  in  in  Moscow ! " 

I  pushed  back  my  chair  and  rose  from  the 
table  with  an  angry  gesture. 

"You  forget,  Pierrot,"  I  said  tartly,  "that 
these  men  were  born  to-  obey;  they  cannot 
resist  the  imperial  authority." 

I  said  it  more  for  my  own  comfort  than  for 
his  conviction,  for  I  was  sick  at  heart,  and 
could  think  of  nothing  but  the  young  girl  in 
the  house  of  a  boyar  who  was  both  feared  and 
despised.  Meanwhile,  Pierrot  had  the  air  of 
not  desiring  to  contradict  his  superior,  even 
in  his  folly,  — an  air  peculiar  to  Pierrot,  and 
especially  irritating. 

"The  Russians  are  very  bloodthirsty,  M. 
le  Vicomte,"  he  said,  by  way  of  a  mild  remon- 
strance, "  and  there  is  no  one  now  at  the  head 
of  the  government  but  a  boy  and  a  woman. " 

"  There  is  a  great  deal  of  awe  felt  of  a  czar, 
my  good  Pierrot,"  I  replied  lightly,  "and  pres- 
ently they  will  have  the  chancellor  back  again; 
and  you  know  the  Streltsi  once  took  stones  from 
the  graves  of  their  fathers  to  build  him  a  house. " 

But  Pierrot  still  continued  to  shake  his  head 
with  aggravating  solemnity. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

A   CZAR'S   FUNERAL. 

MY  original  errand  in  Moscow  was  a  diplo- 
matic one;  it  had  been  my  good  fortune  to 
be  selected  as  the  confidential  agent  of  the 
French  government,  empowered  to  look  into 
and  secure  certain  conditioas  of  the  treaty  with 
Russia  made  by  Richelieu  many  years  before. 
My  father,  who  was  a  cousin  of  the  Due  de 
Bouillon  and  of  the  Vicomte  de  Turenne,  had 
been  a  trusted  friend  of  Cardinal  Mazarin,  and 
was  commended  to  King  Louis  XIV.  by  the 
dying  cardinal.  The  king  had  held  my  father 
in  high  esteem,  and  at  his  death  received  me 
into  his  favor.  I  was  a  soldier  by  instinct  and 
profession,  and  had  served  with  both  Turenne 
and  the  Prince  de  Conde",  being  with  the  latter 
at  the  bloody  battle  of  Seneffe,  where  the  four 
squadrons  of  the  king's  household  stood  under 
fire  for  eight  hours  without  a  movement,  save 


80  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

to  close  our  ranks  as  men  fell.  I  followed 
Turenne  in  his  campaign  in  the  Palatinate,  and 
was  with  him  at  the  time  of  his  death  before 
the  village  of  Salzbach.  The  year  before  I  was 
sent  to  Moscow,  I  rendered  a  service  at  the 
surrender  of  Strasburg  which  won  the  good 
opinion  of  Louvois,  who  was  then  towering 
above  the  king's  other  ministers.  I  was  in 
command  of  one  of  the  squadrtms  posted  to 
guard  the  passage  over  the  Rhine,  and  it  was 
through  my  vigilance  that  the  messengers 
from  the  burgesses  were  captured  on  their 
way  to  ask  aid  from  the  emperor.  Both  Louis 
and  Louvois  believed  that  their  success  was,  in 
a  measure,  due  to  my  zeal  and  activity;  and 
from  that  hour  my  fortune  was  assured,  and  I 
was  promoted  from  one  post  of  confidence  to 
another.  Although  diplomacy  was  not  my 
natural  vocation,  I  was  pleased  at  the  novelty 
of  a  mission  to  Moscow;  and  becoming  well 
acquainted  at  court,  I  lingered  on,  after  the 
successful  accomplishment  of  my  mission.  I 
saw  the  intrigues  preceding  the  late  czar's 
death,  and  learned  a  great  deal  about  the 
undercurrent  at  the  palace.  I  was  regarded 
as  a  disinterested  spectator,  having  friends 
on  both  sides.  My  rank  as  an  agent  of  the 
French  government  gave  me  many  privileges 


A    CZAR'S  FUNERAL.  8 1 

from  which  others  were  excluded.  It  was 
on  my  intimacy  with  court  intrigue  that  I 
based  my  hope  of  rescuing  Ze*nai'de  from  her 
murderous  uncle;  and  it  was  probably  my 
unique  position  that  won  for  me  Von  Gaden's 
confidence. 

On  the  day  of  the  Czar  Feodor's  funeral,  I 
was  early  at  the  palace,  and  found  it  the  scene 
of  great  confusion.  The  anterooms  were  crowded 
with  the  dignitaries  of  the  imperial  household 
and  with  the  boyars.  The  funeral  cortege  was 
to  proceed  to  the  Cathedral  of  the  Ascension  for 
the  obsequies;  and  I  saw,  at  once,  that  there 
was  some  unusual  excitement,  especially  among 
the  Miloslavskys  and  their  faction.  As  I 
crossed  the  anterooms  beyond  the  banqueting 
hall,  I  passed  Ramodanofsky,  who  was  in  a 
window  recess  in  deep  converse  with  Viatsches- 
lav  Naryshkin  and  the  Streltsi  colonel  whom  I 
had  seen  at  his  house.  For  the  first  time,  I 
encountered  a  keen  glance  from  the  old  boyar; 
it  was  evident  to  me  that  I  had  suddenly  be- 
come an  object  of  interest  to  him,  and  yet  I  was 
at  loss  to  explain  the  reason,  being  confident 
that  my  visit  to  his  house  was  unknown  to  him. 
I  passed  on,  and  at  the  opposite  door,  I  came 
upon  Ivan  Miloslavsky,  a  cousin  of  the  Czare- 
vitch Ivan's  mother,  the  Princess  Marie  Illi- 
6 


82  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

nitchna  Miloslavsky,  the  first  wife  of  Alexis 
the  Debonair. 

Ivan  Michaelovitch  Miloslavsky  was  the 
most  able  of  that  family,  except  his  second 
cousin,  the  Czarevna  Sophia  Alexeievna.  I  had 
now  a  desire  to  cultivate  the  good  graces  of 
this  faction,  for  I  felt  that  the  tide  might  turn 
at  any  hour  in  favor  of  the  elder  branch  of  the 
imperial  family.  So  it  was  that  my  salutation 
was  cordial,  and  I  was  well  pleased  at  Milos- 
lavsky's  ready  response ;  he  turned  and  walked 
with  me,  and  it  was  thus  that  I  passed  again 
before  Ramodanofsky  and  his  friends,  and 
observed  that  the  three  worthies  ceased  talk- 
ing, to  watch  us  as  we  walked  the  length  of 
the  room,  Miloslavsky  leaning  on  my  arm,  and 
talking  confidentially.  After  we  were  out  of 
earshot,  I  ventured  to  make  an  inquiry. 

"Can  your  excellency  tell  me  anything 
of  the  boyar  in  the  window  yonder?"  I 
asked. 

"It  is  Vladimir  Sergheievitch  Ramodanof- 
sky," replied  Miloslavsky,  with  a  note  of  scorn 
in  his  voice ;  "  an  old  villain,  and  an  adherent  of 
the  Naryshkins." 

"I  have  heard  unfavorable  reports  of  him,"  I 
said,  feeling  my  way  with  caution. 

"Nothing  you  have   heard   could   be   worse 


A    CZAR'S  FUNERAL.  83 

than  the  truth,  I  fancy,"  replied  Ivan,  indiffer- 
ently. "  Some  day  he  will  be  called  to  his 
account;  meanwhile,  he  is  enjoying  his  little 
hour  of  prosperity." 

"  And  who  is  the  officer  with  him  ?  "  I  in- 
quired, pushing  my  advantage. 

Miloslavsky  glanced  back  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"Another  rascal,  Colonel  Pzykof,  and  he  is 
likely  to  be  called  to  an  early  reckoning,"  he 
added,  a  peculiar  smile  curving  his  full  lips,  — 
a  smile  which  suggested  to  me  at  once  the  tri- 
umph of  some  secret  scheme. 

"The  funeral  procession  is  forming  now,"  he 
continued,  quickening  his  step,  "and  they 
will  be  disturbed  by  an  unusual  occurrence." 

"I  saw  that  there  was  some  interest  awake," 
I  said.  "  What  is  the  new  development  ?  " 

Miloslavsky  smiled  again. 

"The  Czarevna  Sophia  goes  in  the  proces- 
sion," he  said  quietly. 

I  started,  knowing  that  this  was  contrary  to 
every  usage  of  the  Russian  court,  and  that  the 
Byzantine  custom  compelled  the  imperial  prin- 
cesses to  remain  behind  a  canopy.  Miloslavsky 
saw  my  surprise. 

"It  is  an  innovation,"  he  said;  "but  Sophia 
Alexeievna  is  overcome  with  grief  for  her 


84  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

brother;  and,  after  all,  why  should  not  a  sister 
stand  beside  her  brother's  corpse?  " 

He  seemed  to  challenge  me  to  express  an 
opinion. 

"I  am  surprised  only  because  I  know  that 
your  customs  are  so  arbitrary,"  I  replied, 
smoothly.  "In  France,  it  would  seem  most 
natural  for  the  czarevna  to  follow  her  brother's 
body  to  the  grave." 

"Yet  it  has  been  the  cause  of  much  dis- 
pute," said  Miloslavsky,  bitterly,  "and  the 
Czarina  Natalia  is  opposed  to  it.  Naturally 
enough  she  does  not  grieve  much  that  the  elder 
brother  has  passed  away  from  her  son's  path  to 
the  throne,"  he  added  in  an  undertone. 

I  was  discreetly  silent.  We  had  passed 
through  the  anterooms  out  on  to  the  Red  Stair- 
case, and  stood  looking  down  upon  the  crowd. 
It  reminded  me  of  the  election  of  Peter,  only 
that  this  was  a  silent  throng,  impressed,  no 
doubt,  by  the  presence  of  death.  The  proces- 
sion was  forming,  and  everywhere  the  black 
garb  of  mourning  seemed  to  swallow  up  the 
light.  The  Russian  dress  of  that  day  was  a 
strange  contrast  to  the  French.  The  men  wore 
robes  and  sleeves  as  long  as  those  of  the  women, 
and  a  man's  high  cap  was  not  unlike  a  woman's 
head-gear.  It  was  seventeen  years  afterwards 


A    CZAR'S  FUNERAL.  85 

that  Peter  the  Great  inaugurated  a  change  of 
fashion  by  cutting  off  the  sleeves  of  the  boyars, 
with  his  own  hands,  at  a  supper  given  by  the 
Boyar  Sheremetief.  Verily,  I  have  lived  to 
see  great  changes  in  Russia  since  that  day, 
when  I  stood  looking  down  upon  the  Red  Place, 
thronged  with  black-robed  figures,  and  upon 
the  bier  of  the  Czar  Feodor.  It  was  the  dark- 
est hour  in  that  period  of  history,  and  just 
before  the  dawn  of  a  new  reign ;  the  star  of  the 
house  of  Romanof  was  in  the  ascendant,  but  its 
light  was  not  yet  diffused. 

It  was  a  dull  day;  the  sky  was  heavy,  and  the 
Kremlin  wore  its  most  gloomy  aspect ;  even  the 
red  pavement  of  the  square  was  almost  obscured 
by  the  mass  of  people,  and  the  voices  of  the 
multitude  were  hushed  as  the  deep  notes  of  the 
great  cathedral  bells  tolled  solemnly,  on  every 
hand,  the  mournful  dirge  of  Russia's  mightiest, 
laid  in  the  dust  to  share  at  last  the  common  fate 
of  his  humblest  subject,  —  for  how  great  a 
leveller  is  Death ! 

Miloslavsky  and  I  were  parted  when  we  took 
our  places  in  the  dreary  procession,  and  the 
slow  march  to  the  cathedral  was  begun.  Every 
eye  was  turned  on  the  Czarevna  Sophia  Alex- 
eievna,  who  walked  beside  the  bier  of  the  late 
czar.  I  saw  that  the  Miloslavskys  were  play- 


86  ON   THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ing  for  high  stakes,  for  the  unusual  presence  of 
one  of  the  princesses  and  her  manifest  grief 
were  producing  a  strange  effect  upon  the  vast 
crowd  surging  about  the  cortege.  It  seemed  a 
long  time  before  we  stood  at  last  within  the 
great  cathedral,  which  was  draped  in  black 
until  it  looked  like  a  huge  sarcophagus,  and 
the  multitude,  swayed  by  a  new  and  deep  emo- 
tion, packed  the  immense  edifice  and  filled  the 
square  without.  It  was  a  scene  of  strange  sol- 
emnity. Before  the  altar  stood  the  bier,  cov- 
ered with  the  imperial  pall,  and  the  tall  tapers 
around  it  made  a  blaze  of  light  almost  dazzling 
in  its  contrast  to  the  gloom  of  the  rest  of  the 
great  interior,  except  here  and  there,  where  a 
ray  of  light  was  caught  and  reflected  from  the 
gold  upon  the  pillars.  By  the  dead  czar  stood 
the  patriarch  and  the  archbishops  in  their  rich 
robes,  chanting  the  service,  while  the  multi- 
tude knelt  in  the  silence  beyond.  Every  word 
that  the  priests  chanted  sounded  clearly  in 
that  intense  quiet,  and  the  awful  solemnity  of 
death  brooded  over  us.  A  dead  man,  but  for 
that  hour,  czar  of  all  the  Russias  still !  It 
seemed  to  my  imagination  that  some  secret 
emotion  possessed  the  kneeling  crowd,  that 
every  breath  was  drawn  with  some  new  resolu- 
tion, that  even  the  atmosphere  was  surcharged 


A    CZAR'S  FUNERAL.  8? 

with  foreboding.  The  blaze  of  gold  and  silver 
upon  the  high  altar  flashed  in  the  light  of  a 
hundred  tapers,  and  every  line  in  the  patriarch's 
face  was  magnified  in  that  clear  blaze;  but 
beyond  the  circle  of  the  tapers,  not  even  the 
daylight  seemed  to  penetrate  to  where  we  knelt 
in  the  shadow,  and  the  low  chant  of  the  clergy 
rose  and  fell  and  sobbed  in  its  monotonous 
refrain. 

Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  that  solemn  cere- 
mony, we  heard  a  woman's  voice  raised  in  lam- 
entation. I  think  that  every  man  in  that  great 
multitude  caught  his  breath  to  listen,  and  every 
eye  was  fixed  on  that  circle  of  flame  about  the 
pall,  as  the  Czarevna  Sophia  rose  and  stretched 
out  her  hands  in  passionate  supplication  to 
Heaven.  Her  words  were  incoherent,  but  we 
heard  her  voice,  and  we  saw  her  as  she  flung 
herself  down  beside  the  bier,  clutching  it  in  an 
agony  of  grief. 

Was  she  acting?  I  asked  myself  the  ques- 
tion even  while  I  felt  a  scorn  of  myself  for  being 
contemptuous  in  my  judgment  of  a  stricken 
woman;  for  truly,  in  losing  her  elder  brother, 
she  had  lost  her  chief  stay  and  hope.  Yet  I 
knew  the  great  Sophia  too  well  to  be  wholly 
sure  that  her  emotion  was  entirely  without 
thought  of  its  effect  upon  the  people;  I  knew 


88  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

her  to  be  an  astute  politician  and  an  adroit 
manager.  Yet  it  was  a  pathetic  scene,  —  the 
strong  woman's  abandon  in  her  grief  and 
despair.  The  effect  upon  the  multitude  was  at 
once  apparent;  there  was  a  murmur  through 
the  crowd,  low  but  deep.  And  it  was  then  that 
the  Czarina  Natalia  took  that  step  which  caused 
so  much  unfavorable  comment.  Taking  the 
little  Czar  Peter  by  the  hand,  she  left  the 
cathedral,  and  in  a  few  moments,  by  some 
mysterious  agency,  the  news  spread  through 
the  crowd;  and  in  that  hour  the  czarina  lost 
more  prestige  than  she  was  likely  to  regain  for 
many  a  long  day.  The  sharp  contrast  between 
the  agony  of  Sophia's  grief,  and  the  absence 
of  reverence  for  the  dead  in  the  czarina's 
conduct  was  too  strikingly  presented  to  the 
people.  The  excuse  that  Natalia  pleaded,  that 
the  child  Peter  was  weary  with  the  long  ser- 
vice, was  insufficient,  for  the  Miloslavskys  were 
only  too  eager  to  fan  the  flame  of  popular 
resentment  against  the  young  czar's  mother. 

It  was  when  we  were  at  last  leaving  the 
cathedral,  pressed  and  hemmed  in  by  the  crowd, 
that  I  was  pushed  almost  against  the  Boyar 
Ramodanofsky.  As  I  glanced  at  him,  I  saw  a 
curious  look  come  over  his  face;  his  features 
seemed  to  freeze  with  sudden  horror,  and  his 


A    CZAR'S  FUNERAL.  89 

eyes  fixed  themselves  in  a  stare.  Following 
the  direction  of  his  glance,  I  saw  in  the  crowd 
the  tall  figure  of  my  acquaintance  of  election 
day,  Peter  Lykof.  He  was  apparently  looking 
at  the  boyar,  and  there  was  a  smile  on  his  lips ; 
and  was  it  the  scar  that  so  distorted  it,  and  made 
it  horrible,  mocking,  revengeful?  I  watched 
them  in  keen  surprise,  until  the  people  surged 
between,  and  I  saw  Lykof  no  more.  Ramo- 
danofsky  walked  before  me  like  a  man  in  a 
dream,  and  I  kept  him  in  sight  as  long  as  it  was 
possible ;  but  presently,  in  the  press  and  confu- 
sion, I  lost  him  also.  Later,  I  heard  that  he 
had  been  taken  suddenly  ill,  and  leaving  the 
procession,  had  been  driven  home.  All  the 
way  along  I  looked  eagerly  for  another  sign  of 
Lykof,  but  my  vigilance  was  not  rewarded  with 
success. 

Meanwhile,  the  funeral  cortege  took  its  slow 
course,  returning  across  the  Grand  Square  of 
the  Kremlin,  and  once  more  the  figure  of  the 
bereaved  czarevna  absorbed  all  attention,  and 
she  continued  to  give  way  to  her  grief.  We 
had  almost  reached  the  centre  of  the  Red  Place 
when  she  made  her  appeal  to  the  people.  It 
was  the  climax  of  the  scene,  and  took  the  oppos- 
ing faction  completely  by  surprise.  Pausing, 
and  facing  the  vast  multitude,  she  stretched 


go  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

out  her  hands  to  them  with  an  eloquent  ges- 
ture ;  in  a  moment  there  was  a  profound  silence, 
and  her  voice  was  distinctly  heard  at  a  long 
distance:  — 

"  Our  brother,  the  Czar  Feodor,  has  departed 
from  this  life,"  she  said.  "His  enemies  have 
poisoned  him.  Be  merciful  unto  us  orphans, 
for  we  are  desolate.  Our  brother  Ivan  has  not 
been  elected  czar,  and  we  have  no  one  to  pro- 
tect us.  We  are  innocent ;  but  if  you  and  the 
boyars  wish  to  be  rid  of  us,  let  us  go  to  other 
lands,  where  we  can  have  the  protection  of 
Christian  kings." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE  ASSASSIN. 

WHEN  it  was  too  late  to  prevent  the  conse- 
quences, the  Naryshkins  realized  the  effect  of 
the  Czarevna  Sophia's  presence  at  the  funeral 
of  Feodor.  Her  passionate  appeal  to  the 
people  was  in  the  nature  of  a  coup  d'tiat,  and 
who  could  measure  the  results?  For  days, 
rumors  had  been  afloat  that  the  late  czar  had 
been  poisoned,  and  the  ignorant  populace, 
always  only  too  ready  to  credit  such  accusa- 
tions, accepted  Sophia's  bold  declaration  as  a 
confirmation  of  every  story,  and  the  ugly  skele- 
ton of  murder  stalked  out  of  the  imperial  closet. 
The  crowd  had  surged  about  the  czarevna  in  a 
violent  manifestation  of  loyalty;  and  the  unfor- 
tunate exit  of  the  Czarina  Natalia  served  to 
increase  the  victory.  Peter  was  then  only  ten 
years  old,  and  the  czarina  was  probably  justi- 
fied in  taking  the  child  away  from  that  long  and 
weary  service ;  but  no  excuse  would  be  accepted 
for  her  in  the  heat  of  the  popular  displeasure. 


92  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

When  I  left  the  Kremlin  that  evening,  I 
encountered  Dr.  von  Gaden,  and  he  walked 
with  me  a  little  way  towards  my  quarters.  The 
doctor  was  anxious  and  disturbed,  and  we  dis- 
cussed the  conduct  of  the  czarevna. 

"The  Miloslavskys  are  desperate,"  Von 
Gaden  remarked,  "and  Sophia  is  able  enough 
and  clever  enough  to  wring  success  out  of  their 
defeat ;  they  are  playing  on  the  disloyalty  of 
the  Streltsi. " 

"A  dangerous  move,"  I  replied.  "I  heard 
to-day  that  the  Streltsi  had  presented  a  formal 
petition  for  redress  and  the  punishment  of  their 
own  officers." 

"Yes,"  Von  Gaden  said,  shaking  his  head 
thoughtfully,  "only  one  regiment  remains 
faithful  to  the  young  czar." 

"  You  mean  the  Sukharef,  and  I  suppose  they 
will  tamper  even  with  that. " 

"Ay,  no  doubt,"  the  physician  said;  "and 
yet,  when  this  trouble  is  let  loose,  who  can 
stem  the  current  ?  It  may  be  more  mighty  than 
they  suppose.  He  who  sows  the  wind  must 
reap  the  whirlwind  !  " 

"It  is  a  desperate  game,  and  both  parties 
are  playing  desperately.  I  hear  that  the 
Chancellor  Matveief  is  coming  home." 

"That  we  have  all  expected,"  replied   Von 


THE  ASSASSIN.  93 

Gaden.  "Your  friend  Ivan  Michaelovitch 
Miloslavsky  is  reported  ill  to-night." 

"Strange,"  I  remarked;  "he  seemed  in  good 
health  to-day." 

"It  is  but  acting,"  said  the  physician,  bit- 
terly; "they  are  all  acting  now.  Miloslavsky 
has  some  end  in  view  which  can  be  best  served 
by  isolation,  therefore  he  is  ill." 

"  A  few  days  ago  the  cause  of  the  Czarevitch 
Ivan  was  desperate,"  I  remarked  musingly, 
"but  now  the  Czar  Peter's  hold  on  the  impe- 
rial sceptre  seems  precarious.  There  has  been 
shrewd  work  done  in  the  interval." 

"And  the  czarevna's  charge  that  the  Czar 
Feodor  was  poisoned  will  rouse  the  very  devil 
among  this  ignorant  rabble,  and  I  was  the  late 
czar's  physician!"  Von  Gaden  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  "  I  must  even  throw  myself  on  the 
mercy  of  the  Czarina  Natalia,  since  the  Milos- 
lavskys  would  sacrifice  my  head  right  cheer- 
fully, if  it  would  promote  their  cause." 

"  I  have  imagined  that  Matveief  could  con- 
trol these  warring  factions,"  I  said;  "it  needs 
a  master's  hand  and  a  cool  head.  Why  does 
he  not  hasten  to  the  scene  of  action? " 

Von  Gaden  smiled.  "The  ex-chancellor 
has  an  affection  for  his  head,  and  likes  to  feel 
it  on  his  shoulders,"  he  replied  dryly.  "His 


94  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

son  sends  him  information,  and  I  believe  he  is 
waiting  for  this  storm  to  blow  over  before 
he  launches  his  bark  upon  the  sea  of  popular 
favor." 

"  This  tempest  will  never  blow  over  until  it 
has  spent  its  fury,"  I  rejoined. 

As  I  spoke,  the  doctor  touched  my  arm,  and 
signed  to  me  to  look  in  front  of  us.  The  moon 
was  partially  obscured  by  thin  clouds,  but 
there  was  light  enough  for  me  to  see  two  figures 
ahead,  one  skulking  in  the  rear  of  the  other, 
and  keeping  in  the  shelter  of  the  houses.  The 
first  one  walked  boldly  along  in  the  middle  of 
the  road,  a  large  figure  wrapped  in  a  long  cloak ; 
the  stealthy  form  was  not  quite  so  tall  or 
broad,  but  more  agile  and  fleet  of  foot.  It  was 
the  peculiar  movements  of  the  latter  that  had 
attracted  the  physician's  notice. 

"Watch  them,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice;  "that 
fellow  behind  gains  slowly  but  surely  on  the 
other,  who  is  apparently  unconscious  of  his 
pursuit." 

"  If  I  ever  saw  a  murderer  and  his  victim,  I 
see  them  now,"  I  replied  in  as  low  a  tone;  "let 
us  give  the  alarm. " 

The  doctor  shook  his  head.  "Not  yet,"  he 
said ;  "  rather  follow  and  see  the  upshot  of  it. 
There  is  something  familiar  to  me  in  the  bear- 
ing of  the  taller  man." 


THE  ASSASSIN,  95 

I  was  conscious,  too,  of  recognizing  a  certain 
familiarity  of  outline.  Slipping  into  the 
shadow,  we  followed  in  the  wake  of  the  pursuer 
and  pursued.  We  kept  at  some  distance  in  the 
rear,  that  our  footsteps  might  not  be  noticed; 
and  the  strange  procession  continued  for  some 
distance  without  the  stealthy  spy  showing  any 
signs  of  a  malicious  purpose.  Our  road  lay 
through  a  lonely  quarter  of  the  town,  and  we 
had  encountered  no  one  as  yet,  so  that  our 
interest  was  centered  on  the  two  before  us. 
The  tall  man  in  front  was  going  straight  towards 
the  section  of  the  city  occupied  by  the  Streltsi. 
In  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  we  turned  into  a  deserted 
lane,  narrow  and  so  shadowed  by  the  high  walls 
on  either  side,  that  not  even  the  struggling 
light  of  the  moon  could  penetrate  it.  It  was 
here  that  we  heard  the  sudden  sound  of  a 
struggle  in  front  of  us,  and  dashed  forward  to 
the  rescue.  I  almost  stumbled  over  the  two 
rolling  on  the  ground,  for  I  could  barely  dis- 
cern them  in  the  darkness ;  the  larger  man  had 
evidently  been  tripped  up  by  a  sudden  assault 
from  the  rear,  and  was  beneath.  I  seized 
the  other  by  the  collar,  dragging  him  off  with 
difficulty,  for  he  seemed  determined  to  finish 
his  fiendish  work.  His  victim  lay  for  a 
moment  motionless. 


96  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"Is  he  injured?"  I  asked  in  French,  of  Von 
Gaden,  as  he  knelt  beside  him.  But  as  I  spoke, 
the  stranger  recovered  sufficiently  to  raise 
himself. 

"I  thank  you  for  your  promptness,  M. 
de  Brousson,"  he  said.  "You  were  in  the 
nick  of  time;  the  villain's  knife  was  at  my 
throat." 

It  was  Peter  Lykof.  Recovering  from  my 
surprise,  I  asked  him  if  he  was  free  from  injury. 

"A  trifle  scratched  and  a  little  shaken,"  he 
said  calmly,  rising  with  the  doctor's  help.  "It 
is  a  shock  to  a  man's  nerves  to  be  suddenly 
choked  and  thrown  down.  Who  is  the  rascal  ?  " 

"  We  shall  need  more  light  to  see, "  I  remarked 
carelessly,  meanwhile  keeping  my  knee  on  the 
fellow's  chest  and  my  pistol  at  his  head. 
"  Have  you  a  bit  of  cord  there,  Dr.  von  Gaden  ? " 
I  added.  "  If  we  can  tie  his  hands  and  disarm 
him,  it  will  be  easy  to  take  him  home  for  safe 
keeping." 

In  a  few  moments  we  had  bound  his  hands 
with  the  doctor's  scarf,  and  having  disarmed 
him,  allowed  him  to  rise.  Von  Gaden  invited 
Lykof  to  come  with  us,  that  he  might  dress 
his  slight  wound,  and  after  a  little  hesitation, 
the  invitation  was  accepted,  and  we  returned 
towards  the  doctor's  house,  the  prisoner  walk- 


THE  ASSASSIN.  97 

ing  in  advance  and  covered  by  my  pistol,  which 
I  kept  ready  cocked. 

"Go  a  step  faster  than  we  do,"  I  said 
sharply,  "and  I  will  shoot  you." 

Thus  we  moved  along  in  a  solemn  manner 
towards  Von  Gaden's  quarters.  Even  in  the 
darkness  I  was  sure  that  I  recognized  my  pris- 
oner's figure,  and  was  not  surprised  to  have  my 
supposition  verified  on  entering  the  house.  It 
was  the  Boyar  Ramodanof sky's  steward,  Polot- 
sky.  Vtm  Gaden  looked  at  him  with  a  grunt  of 
disgust. 

"  What  will  you  do  with  him  ?  "  I  asked. 

The  physician  stood  a  moment  absorbed  in 
thought. 

Meanwhile,  Lykof  remained  in  the  shadow  by 
the  door,  taking  no  part  in  the  discussion, 
although  he  would  naturally  have  been  the 
most  keenly  interested.  After  a  .little  hesita- 
tion, Von  Gaden  summoned  a  servant,  and  the 
two  took  Polotsky  to  a  small  room  at  the  left 
of  the  door,  and  securing  the  window,  bolted 
him  in  and  left  him  to  his  own  reflections. 
Then  the  doctor  invited  us  to  enter  his  study, 
where  the  tapers  were  burning,  and  he  had 
appliances  at  hand  to  bandage  Lykof's  throat. 
Entering  the  room  in  advance,  I  was  startled 
by  an  exclamation  from  Von  Gaden,  and  look- 

7 


98  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ing  around,  saw  his  eyes  fastened  with  aston- 
ishment on  the  face  of  Peter  Lykof,  who  was 
standing  before  the  light,  and  having  dropped 
his  cloak,  was  revealed  in  his  close-fitting  gar- 
ments, a  large  muscular  man,  whose  white  hair 
contrasted  strongly  with  his  bronzed  complex- 
ion. Lykof  was  regarding  the  Jew  with  almost 
a  smile  on  his  stern  face,  and  I  saw  that  the 
side  which  had  escaped  the  distortion  of  the 
scar  was  handsome.  Von  Gaden  shaded  his 
eyes  with  his  hand,  gazing  at  his  visitor  in 
silence  until  Lykof  spoke. 

"You  recognize  me,  I  see,  doctor,"  he  said; 
"but  it  is  not  necessary  that  others  should 
know  me  also." 

"I  understand,"  exclaimed  Von  Gaden, 
grasping  his  outstretched  hand  warmly.  "I 
should  have  known  you  among  a  thousand, 
although  it  is  a  long  time,  and  the  years  have 
made  some  changes." 

"Sorry  ones,  I  fear,"  replied  the  stranger, 
smiling.  "But  you  should  recognize  your  own 
handiwork." 

The  doctor  seemed  suddenly  to  recollect  his 
business,  and  bustled  about. 

"Sit  down,"  he  said,  "and  I  will  dress 
that  neck  of  yours,  and  then  we  can  have 
supper. " 


THE  ASSASSIN.  99 

"  It  is  but  a  scratch, "  said  Lykof,  carelessly, 
as  he  unfastened  his  collar,  revealing  a  gash 
near  the  collar-bone  which  had  bled  quite 
freely. 

"A  bungling  stroke,"  remarked  Von  Gaden, 
critically;  "the  villain  is  a  poor  swordsman." 

"Yes,  fortunately,"  laughed  Lykof,  "else  I 
should  not  be  alive  to  thank  M.  de  Brous- 
son  for  his  timely  interference." 

"  The  fellow  must  'have  been  dogging  your 
footsteps  for  some  time,"  I  said,  "for  we  had 
followed  for  quite  a  distance  to  see  the  outcome 
of  the  affair." 

"It  may  be  that  he  has  followed  me  all  day," 
Lykof  replied.  "  I  have  been  so  absorbed  in  my 
own  business  that  I  had  no  thought  of  such  a 
thing;  and  Michael  was  not  with  me.  If  he 
had  been  —  "  he  laughed  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"There  would  have  been  short  work,"  I  said; 
"at  least,  I  should  judge  so  from  what  I  have 
observed. " 

"  He  told  me  of  his  mistaken  attack  upon 
you,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  Lykof  said  with  a  keen 
glance,  which  made  my  face  burn,  "and  I 
must  apologize  for  him.  The  fellow  has  been 
infuriated  by  this  villain  Polotsky,  and  longs 
for  his  blood.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  will 


IOO  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

murder  him  in  the  end,  and  it  will  be  no  loss 
to  the  community." 

"No;  that  kind  of  vermin  is  best  removed," 
Von  Gaden  rejoined,  as  he  adjusted  the  plaster 
on  Lykof's  wound,  and  I  watched  with  interest 
the  man's  wonderful  dexterity. 

"What  will  you  do  with  Polotsky  now ? "  I 
inquired,  not  a  little  curious  as  to  their  inten- 
tions, for  I  saw  that  there  was  already  an  under- 
standing between  doctor  and  patient  from  which 
I  was  excluded. 

"Let  him  go,"  replied  Lykof,  carelessly ; 
"give  him  enough  rope  and  he  will  hang  him- 
self." 

"  After  he  has  sent  a  few  other  people  out  of 
the  world,"  I  replied  dryly;  and  I  saw  that  Von 
Gaden  was  surprised  at  his  friend's  indifference. 

"I  would  not  let  the  villain  go  if  I  were 
you,"  he  said,  looking  earnestly  at  Lykof,  as 
if  endeavoring  to  fathom  his  motive. 

"This  rogue  is  so  insignificant  that  I  do  not 
care  about  him,"  returned  the  other,  calmly. 
"  I  would  rather  set  my  snare  for  a  greater  ras- 
cal —  that  we  know  of. " 

"  It  seems  to  me  a  constant  menace  to  your 
own  safety  to  let  yonder  fellow  loose,"  I  re- 
marked. "He  is  indeed  insignificant,  but  none 
the  less  a  mischievous  rogue,  and  one  who 


THE   ASSASSIN.  IOI 

strikes  in  the  back.  I  would  rather  end  the 
matter  with  a  bullet  than  let  him  go  at  large." 

"  It  is  at  least  the  wiser  course  to  keep  him 
a  close  prisoner,"  Von  Gaden  said,  with  a  cer- 
tain air  of  deference,  however,  as  if  willing  to 
yield  his  opinion  to  Lykof's, — a  manner  that 
was  unusual  with  the  doctor,  a  man  of  strong 
will  and  quick  decision. 

But  while  we  were  thus  discussing  the  mat- 
ter, it  was  already  settled.  The  prisoner  had 
found  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  problem. 
Von  Gaden's  confidential  servant  came  running 
to  the  door,  much  out  of  breath  and  visibly 
alarmed. 

"A  word  with  you,  master,"  he  said  in  Ger- 
man. 

"  What  is  it,  fellow  ?  "  asked  the  doctor, 
sharply,  turning  on  him  as  if  he  suspected  his 
errand. 

"The  prisoner  has  escaped,  sir,"  he  stam- 
mered, looking  thoroughly  frightened  at  the 
displeasure  gathering  in  his  master's  eye. 

''You  villain!"  exclaimed  Von  Gaden,  an- 
grily. "Could  you  not  watch  an  assassin 
closer? " 

The  poor  man  faltered  a  thousand  excuses, 
overwhelmed  with  his  own  culpability.  Lykof 
did  not  understand  German,  but  when  the  situ- 
ation was  explained  to  him,  he  laughed. 


102  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"  There  is  no  longer  any  need  to  discuss  the 
wisdom  of  retaining  this  prisoner,"  he  said. 

Von  Gaden  questioned  his  servant,  and  found 
that  the  man's  suspicion  had  been  aroused  by  a 
sudden  cessation  of  all  sound  in  the  temporary 
prison  where  Polotsky  had  been  confined ;  and 
examining  the  place  through  the  keyhole,  he 
had  felt  the  fresh  air,  and  immediately  unbolt- 
ing the  door,  found  that,  in  some  ingenious 
way,  the  prisoner  had  unfastened  the  window 
and  leaped  into  the  street.  He  went  outside  at 
once,  but  found  no  trace  of  the  fugitive.  Von 
Gaden  was  not  only  annoyed,  but  mortified  at 
what  he  deemed  his  own  carelessness ;  but  Lykof 
tried  to  set  his  mind  at  rest,  evidently  regard- 
ing the  escape  as  a  joke  at  the  expense  of  the 
Jew,  and  he  remarked  that  it  would  not  be 
difficult  to  discover  the  fugitive,  as  he  was  cer- 
tain to  return  to  Ramodanof sky's  house.  I 
observed  that  Lykof  seemed  rather  to  relish  the 
idea  of  going  there  in  search  of  him.  Von 
Gaden,  on  the  contrary,  liked  the  prospect  less 
and  less,  and  blamed  himself  not  a  little  for 
the  easy  escape  of  the  captive. 

"I  will  not  trust  to  such  securities  again," 
he  muttered ;  "  if  I  had  taken  him  to  my  labor- 
atory, I  could  have  kept  him  fast  enough !  " 


CHAPTER   IX. 

SOPHIA   ALEXEIEVNA. 

WHILE  we  were  still  conversing,  there  was  a 
noise  in  the  hall,  and  I  heard  a  familiar  voice. 
In  a  moment,  the  doctor's  man  told  me  that 
my  attendant  wished  to  speak  with  me.  I 
found  Pierrot  by  the  outer  door,  looking  much 
disturbed  and  not  a  little  important,  —  his  way 
when  employed  on  confidential  business.  I 
was  annoyed  at  him  for  following  me  to  Von 
Gad  en's  house. 

"  What  brings  you  here  ?  "  I  asked,  a  trifle 
sharply. 

"A  message  from  the  Kremlin,  M.  le 
Vicomte,"  he  said  at  once,  in  a  low  tone. 
"The  messenger  is  waiting  at  your  apartments 
now. " 

Going  through  my  private  papers,  I  thought 
immediately,  knowing  Russian  methods. 

"  Why  did  you  not  wait  for  me  to  return,  you 
knave?"  I  said,  half  angrily;  "you  know  bet- 


IO4  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ter  than   to  leave  a  stranger  at  large  in  my 
rooms. " 

Pierrot  held  up  some  keys.  "  He  is  locked 
in  the  hall,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said  calmly. 
"I  took  that  precaution." 

"Locked  out  the  imperial  messenger!"  I 
exclaimed,  aghast.  "What  trouble  will  you 
make  next,  you  blockhead  ?  " 

But  I  could  not  forbear  laughing.  The 
thought  of  the  messenger  locked  in  the  narrow 
hall,  while  Pierrot  gravely  departed  with  the 
keys,  was  exquisitely  ridiculous. 

I  made  a  hasty  apology  to  Von  Gaden,  and 
hurried  away  with  my  attendant.  My  curiosity 
was  roused,  for  I  could  not  imagine  what  had 
prompted  a  summons  to  the  Kremlin  at  that 
hour,  and  from  one  of  the  imperial  family.  A 
hundred  possibilities  flashed  through  my  head; 
but  the  only  one  that  seemed  likely  was  that 
some  news  had  arrived  from  my  government 
which  required  my  immediate  attention;  and 
yet  the  diplomatic  relations  were  not  so  inti- 
mate as  to  make  even  that  probable.  The  dis- 
tance from  my  house  to  Von  Gaden' s  was  not 
great,  and  I  hastened  my  steps  the  more  because 
of  Pierrot's  peculiar  reception  of  the  envoy.  I 
found  him  sitting  stiffly  in  the  hall,  evidently 
angry  at  the  treatment  he  had  received,  but 


SOPHIA  ALEXEIEVNA.  105 

willing  to  accept  my  apology  on  the  ground 
of  my  man's  stupidity.  It  was  one  of  the 
Czarevna  Sophia's  gentlemen-in-waiting,  and 
he  was  the  bearer  of  a  verbal  message  from  the 
princess,  requesting  my  immediate  attendance 
at  the  palace.  I  was  much  surprised,  but  pre- 
pared at  once  to  accompany  him;  my  dress 
had  been  a  little  disordered  by  the  skirmish 
with  the  assassin,  and  I  had  to  make  some 
slight  changes  before  I  could  present  myself 
at  the  Kremlin.  However,  in  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  we  were  on  the  way,  having  left  Pierrot 
with  an  expression  of  gloomy  apprehension  on 
his  face;  for  he  had  no  confidence  in  the  good 
faith  of  the  Russians,  and  seemed  to  live  in 
anticipation  of  a  dreadful  fate.  The  czarevna's 
messenger  treated  me  with  a  deference  that 
argued  that  he,  at  least,  fancied  my  errand  to 
be  one  of  importance;  but  he  seemed  especially 
anxious  to  avoid  conversation,  and  I  could  not 
blame  him,  for  I  knew  that  the  state  of  affairs 
was  such  as  to  make  any  wise  man  hold 
his  tongue,  for  it  was  dangerous  to  declare 
adherence  to  either  the  Miloslavskys  or  the 
Naryshkins  at  that  time.  As  we  approached 
the  Gate  of  Saint  Nicholas  of  Mojaisk,  my 
companion  left  me  for  a  few  moments  to  speak 
to  three  men  who  were  leaving  it;  they  con- 


IO6  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

versed  in  low  tones,  and  with  great  earnestness. 
A  little  observation  convinced  me  that  they 
.were  Streltsi,  and  here  was  another  straw  to 
show  which  way  the  wind  was  blowing.  In  a 
few  moments  my  guide  rejoined  me,  and  there 
were  traces  of  agitation  in  his  manner.  The 
anterooms  of  the  palace  were  almost  deserted 
when  we  entered,  and  he  hurried  me  towards 
the  apartments  of  the  czarevnas.  I  was  ush- 
ered into  a  vacant  guardroom  of  the  Terem, 
and  left  to  await  the  pleasure  of  the  princess. 
In  the  quarter  of  an  hour  that  ensued,  my  medi- 
tations were  peculiar;  I  had  given  up  trying  to 
conjecture  the  cause  of  the  summons,  and  waited 
with  what  patience  I  could  command.  I  exam- 
ined the  apartment  with  some  curiosity,  for  it 
was  unusual  for  a  stranger  to  gain  admittance 
within  these  precincts,  and  impossible  before 
the  time  of  the  Czarina  Natalia;  Alexis'  affec- 
tion for  his  young  bride,  who  had  been  brought 
up  by  Matveief's  Scotch  wife,  had  allowed  her 
a  freedom  before  unknown  in  the  imperial 
household,  where  it  had  been  a  criminal  offence 
to  meet  the  czarina  unveiled.  Two  windows 
of  the  room  looked  down  upon  the  Red  Place, 
so  that  the  inmates  had  ample  opportunity  to 
observe  the  occurrences  without;  the  interior 
was  furnished  in  the  rich  Oriental  fashion,  and 


SOPHIA   ALEXEIEVNA.  1 07 

was  evidently  no  longer  occupied  by  the  guards, 
but  had  probably  been  added  to  Sophia's  suite 
of  apartments.  I  had  always  felt  a  good  deal 
of  curiosity  about  this  princess,  who  had  so 
overshadowed  her  sisters  and  her  blind  brother, 
Ivan.  She  had  shared  her  brother  Feodor's 
education,  and  had  taken  advantage  of  all  the 
liberty  so  lately  given  to  the  women  of  the 
czar's  family,  during  Feodor's  illness  taking  a 
prominent  part  in  affairs  of  State,  putting  aside 
the  last  formalities  which  hedged  in  the  imperial 
household ;  therefore,  I  was  not  surprised  when 
the  door  opened  at  last  to  see  her  enter  alone. 

Sophia  Alexeievna  at  that  time  was  still  a 
young  woman,  but  exceedingly  stout,  her  short 
figure  being  crowned  by  an  enormous  head,  out 
of  all  proportion  even  to  the  bulky  body,  and 
the  Russian  dress  of  the  day  increased  her 
appearance  of  flesh,  falling,  as  it  did,  a  long 
full  robe  from  the  throat  to  the  feet;  that 
night,  it  was  black,  edged  with  sable,  and 
embroidered  with  silver.  She  was  an  ex- 
tremely plain  woman,  but  there  was  an  imperial 
dignity  in  her  bearing  which  counterbalanced 
the  effect  of  her  proportions,  and  her  small  eyes 
were  keen  and  penetrating,  with  a  glance  at 
once  haughty  and  unflinching.  Yet  there  was 
a  charm  about  the  czarevna's  manner  when  she 


IOS  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

wished  to  please,  and  her  voice  could  be  exceed- 
ingly pleasant  and  winning. 

She  came  forward  now  to  a  table  in  the  center 
of  the  room,  and  signed  to  me  to  approach, 
which  I  did  with  a  profound  obeisance.  My 
curiosity  was  thoroughly  roused,  and,  more- 
over, I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  secure  the 
friendship  of  this  remarkable  woman.  She 
had  learned  enough  French  to  address  me  by 
name  without  hesitation,  but  beyond  that  she 
spoke  in  Russian,  which  was  fortunately  as 
familiar  to  me  as  my  mother  tongue. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  said  pleasantly,  "you 
are  doubtless  surprised  at  this  arbitrary  sum- 
mons; but  we  have  learned  to  look  upon  you 
as  a  friend  of  our  late  brother,  the  martyred 
czar,  and  we  felt  that  we  could  rely  upon  your 
kindness  and  your  discretion  to  execute  a  —  " 
Sophia  hesitated,  and  I  fancied  she  was  decid- 
ing what  shade  of  importance  to  give  to  her 
request,  "a  delicate  mission  for  us  at  this  time, 
when  we  cannot  easily  spare  one  of  our  own 
trusted  relatives." 

It  was  my  turn  to  hesitate  a  little,  for  I  was 
not  willing  to  commit  myself  blindly  to  the 
performance  of  some  secret  mission. 

"Your  highness  can  rely  on  my  friendship 
and  discretion,"  I  murmured,  "and  it  would 


SOPHIA   ALEXEIEVNA.  1 09 

give  me  pleasure  to  do  any  reasonable  service 
for  any  of  the  imperial  family." 

The  czarevna  cast  a  keen  glance  at  me  as  if 
she  thought  my  reply  a  little  ambiguous,  but 
was  far  too  astute  to  show  any  doubt  of  my 
fidelity. 

"The  service  I  ask  is  trifling,"  she  said 
calmly,  lying  as  coolly  as  I  ever  heard  any 
woman  lie  in  my  life,  for  I  knew  that  no  man 
was  summoned  at  that  hour  to  the  Kremlin  for 
a  trifle ;  but  I  forgave  her  the  lie,  for  the  sake 
of  the  grace  with  which  she  told  it. 

"  If  your  highness  will  instruct  me  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  errand,"  I  began,  stammering 
a  little,  for  I  was  in  a  dilemma,  not  desiring  to 
offend  either  faction,  and  knowing  that  I  was 
treading  on  a  mine  which  was  liable  to  explode 
under  the  pressure  of  my  heel.  I  thought 
that  she  was  rather  enjoying  my  discomfiture, 
for  I  saw  a  gleam  of  amusement  in  her  alert 
eyes,  and  she  had  the  most  painfully  alert 
glance  that  it  has  ever  been  my  destiny  to 
endeavor  to  evade. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  said  with  a  smile, 
and  an  air  of  bland  candor,  "  I  know  well  that  I 
am  calling  upon  a  stranger  for  a  personal  ser- 
vice, and  that  you  do  not  owe  me  the  allegiance 
of  a  subject;  but,"  she  added  with  perfect  grace 


HO  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

of  manner,  "  you  are  a  French  gentleman,  and  I 
know  your  reputation  for  gallantry;  therefore 
consider  me,  monsieur,  as  only  a  woman  asking 
a  friendly  service  at  your  hands,  and  forget  that 
I  am  a  czarevna  of  Russia,  and  a  sister  of  the 
unhappy  czarevitch." 

She  could  hardly  have  placed  me  in  a  more 
awkward  predicament;  I  saw  at  once  that  a 
refusal  would  be  a  deadly  offense,  and  I  had 
heard  that  Sophia's  memory  was  long.  There 
was  no  alternative  but  to  meet  the  exigency 
with  what  grace  I  could  summon  to  my  aid. 

"It  is  too  much  honor,"  I  said,  bowing  low, 
and  feeling  that  it  was  indeed  a  greater  honor 
than  I  desired,  "and  I  am  sure  that  there  can 
be  no  doubt  of  my  readiness  to  serve  your 
highness  at  all  times." 

"Alas,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  Sophia  replied  with 
a  heavy  sigh,  "we  scarcely  know  where  to  look 
for  true  friends  now.  The  election  of  the 
younger  czarevitch  dashed  our  hopes  to  the 
ground,  and  we  can  but  look  with  despair  upon 
our  elder  brother,  set  aside  in  favor  of  a  child 
of  ten !  In  the  hour  of  prosperity,  friends  are 
plentiful  indeed;  but  when  an  ill  wind  blows, 
the  ship  is  soon  deserted.  We  poor  orphans 
are  indeed  desolate.  Therefore,"  she  added, 
with  a  sudden  change  from  melancholy  to  gra- 


SOPHIA  ALEXEIEVNA.  Ill 

ciousness,  "we  value  more  a  token  of  your  dis- 
interested kindness.  I  will  ask  but  a  small 
service,  monsieur;  there  is  a  little  packet  here 
that  I  would  have  delivered  to-night,  and  I  am 
at  loss  to  find  a  trusty  messenger.  One  of  our 
own  people  might  be  apprehended,  but  you, 
M.  de  Brousson,  could  deliver  it  without  hurt 
and  without  suspicion." 

I  was  not  afraid  of  any  risk  except  that  which 
seemed  imminent  of  being  involved  in  some  of 
the  Miloslavskys'  schemes.  If  I  had  been  at 
that  time  acting  as  an  envoy  of  the  French 
king,  I  could  have  evaded  the  czarevna's  im- 
portunity; but  my  diplomatic  mission  was  long 
ago  concluded,  and  I  was  in  Russia  on  my  own 
responsibility,  and  was  aware  that  she  knew  it; 
nevertheless,  I  was  in  a  fever  of  embarrassment. 
I  stammered  something  about  being  too  blunt  a 
man  to  execute  political  errands;  but  the  prin- 
cess swept  aside  my  objection  with  an  ease  that 
I  could  not  but  admire,  while  I  chafed  under  it. 
She  had  me  in  her  toils,  and  I  saw  that  escape 
was  impossible.  She  had  already  lifted  the 
packet,  which  was  a  small  one,  from  the  table, 
and  was  examining  the  seals  before  handing  it 
to  me. 

"  You  will  do  me  a  personal  service,  M. 
le  Vicomte,"  she  said  sweetly,  "and  one  that 


112  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

Sophia  will  never  forget.  You  need  only  to 
conceal  this  about  your  person  and  deliver 
it,  with  what  speed  you  can,  to  Prince  Basil 
Galitsyn,  who  is  outside  the  city  now,  at  the 
house  of  the  Boyar  Urusof.  It  is  important 
that  he  receive  these  papers  to-night." 

I  started  when  I  heard  the  mention  of 
Galitsyn's  name,  for  it  was  rumored  that  the 
great  czarevna  loved  this  handsome  prince. 
Galitsyn  was  a  descendant  of  the  Lithuanian 
monarchs,  and  belonged  to  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  families  in  Russia,  besides  being  a 
man  of  attainments  and  of  a  dignified  presence.  I 
knew  at  once  that  my  errand  was  of  importance, 
and  suspected  that  the  messenger  would  be 
watched,  and  therefore  the  shrewd  czarevna 
had  selected  a  foreigner  who  was  certain  to 
escape  suspicion.  I  received  the  packet  from 
her  hands  with  a  reluctance  that  it  was  difficult 
to  conceal.  However,  there  are  none  so  blind 
as  those  who  do  not  desire  to  see,  and  Sophia 
feigned  ignorance  of  my  embarrassment.  She 
took  the  pains  to  give  me  minute  directions 
about  the  route  to  Urusof 's  villa,  and  offered  to 
supply  me  with  a  horse.  But  I  declined  the 
offer,  for  two  obvious  reasons:  first,  I  pre- 
ferred my  own  animal  on  a  journey  on  a  bad 
road  at  night;  second,  I  knew  that  to  have  a 


SOPHIA   ALEXEIEVNA.  113 

horse  brought  from  the  imperial  stables  at  that 
hour  for  me  would  attract  attention,  even  if  it 
did  not  arouse  suspicion. 

"You  will  find  Prince  Galitsyn,"  Sophia  said 
in  conclusion,  when  she  was  dismissing  me, 
"and  deliver  this  packet  into  his  own  hands, 
and  so  earn  my  grateful  thanks. " 

And  she  extended  her  hand  with  a  smile 
that  on  a  more  beautiful  face  would  have  been 
captivating.  I  made  my  obeisance,  and  departed 
with  as  good  a  grace  as  I  could  assume,  while  my 
heart  was  like  lead,  for  I  had  no  relish  for  my 
errand  and  a  deep-rooted  distrust  of  the  smiling 
czarevna,  who  I  fancied  would  walk  to  power 
over  her  fallen  friends  with  the  same  cheerful 
aspect.  As  I  left  the  apartment,  I  stumbled 
on  the  recumbent  form  of  one  of  the  court 
dwarfs,  who  had  been  lying  outside  the  door. 
I  was  not  a  little  disconcerted  to  find  that  it 
was  Homyak,  for  whom  I  had  conceived  a  dis- 
like as  strong  as  that  felt  by  Von  Gaden.  How- 
ever, a  glance  at  his  face  satisfied  me  that  he 
had  been  napping,  and  was  in  a  very  ill  humor 
at  being  disturbed.  He  snarled  out  something 
about  walking  over  a  man  as  if  he  were  a  toad, 
and  curled  himself  down  again,  like  a  huge 
house  dog,  on  the  door-sill,  while  I  hurried 
through  the  anterooms,  only  anxious  to  avoid 


114  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

notice,  and  with  the  czarevna's  packet  con- 
cealed in  my  bosom.  When  I  reached  the  Red 
Staircase,  I  loosened  my  sword  in  the  scabbard, 
and  hastened  my  step  as  I  walked  across  the 
Red  Place  and  towards  the  Gate  of  the 
Redeemer. 


CHAPTER   X. 

THE  PACKET. 

I  WENT  directly  to  my  own  quarters  and 
ordered  Pierrot  to  have  my  horse  saddled,  while 
I  put  on  my  riding  boots  and  loaded  my  pistols. 
I  had  no  taste  for  my  errand,  but  was  deter- 
mined to  execute  it  faithfully,  and  with  all 
possible  speed.  To  my  astonishment,  Pierrot 
reappeared  booted  and  spurred  for  the  ride.  I 
eyed  him  with  anger. 

"  Who  required  your  attendance  ? "  I  asked 
sharply. 

An  obstinate  expression  came  over  the  man's 
honest  face. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said  solemnly,  ''the 
city  is  in  a  turmoil,  and  you  may  need  my 
sword,  even  if  you  do  not  care  for  my  at- 
tendance." 

"  Pshaw,  Pierrot ! "  I  replied,  more  pleas- 
antly, "  they  are  too  busy  preparing  to  cut  each 
other's  throats  to  care  to  cut  mine." 


Il6  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"I  know  not  how  that  may  be,  monsieur," 
he  rejoined  stubbornly;  "but  I  do  know  that 
the  serfs  are  all  ready  to  rise  if  the  Streltsi 
mutiny,  and  there  is  no  one  here  to  care 
whether  our  throats  are  cut  or  not,  so  we  must 
even  look  after  them  ourselves. " 

"Well,  look  after  yours,  my  good  man,"  I 
said  carelessly,  "  and  trust  me  to  take  care  of 
my  own." 

Pierrot  stood  hesitating  for  a  moment;  I 
saw  that  he  was  by  no  means  silenced,  but 
pretended  not  to  observe  him  while  I  fastened 
my  belt  with  the  pistols  in  it  and  adjusted  my 
cloak,  receiving  very  little  assistance  from  him. 
I  had  turned  to  leave  the  room  when  he  touched 
my  sleeve.  I  stopped  impatiently,  but  some- 
thing in  his  eyes  checked  my  anger. 

"What  is  it  now,  you  persistent  knave?  "  I 
asked,  conscious  that  my  resolution  was  weak- 
ening before  his  obstinate  devotion. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said  gravely,  "I  have 
served  you  faithfully  for  many  years ;  my  father 
served  yours,  before  me.  I  pray  you,  let  me 
share  your  peril,  if  I  may  not  avert  it. " 

I  was  deeply  touched,  but  passed  it  off 
lightly.  "  Nonsense,  man !  "  I  said ;  "  you  make 
a  mountain  out  of  a  molehill.  I  am  in  no  dan- 
ger; but  since  you  are  so  obstinate,  have  your 


THE  PACKET.  1 1/ 

way,  but  we  have  the  prospect  of  a  hard  ride, 
and  little  risk  to  vary  the  monotony." 

The  foolish  fellow  thanked  me  as  if  I  had 
conferred  a  great  favor,  and  in  a  few  moments 
we  were  in  the  saddle,  and  walking  our  horses 
down  the  narrow  streets,  which  were  dark 
enough  to  enforce  a  little  caution.  It  was  now 
late,  and  events  had  so  crowded  upon  each  other, 
that  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  must  be  nearer 
morning  than  it  really  was.  The  city  was  not 
as  quiet  as  usual  at  that  hour;  heavy  sounds 
smote  the  ear,  and  the  hum  of  some  distant 
noise  coming  from  the  direction  of  the  quarters 
of  the  Streltsi.  We  were  riding  through  the 
Zemlianui-gorod  towards  the  suburbs,  where  I 
was  to  find  the  house  of  the  Boyar  Urusof. 
The  moon  was  entirely  obscured  now,  and  it 
was  so  dark  that  it  required  all  my  attention  to 
guide  my  horse  along  the  indifferent  road,  — 
Pierrot  keeping  close  in  my  wake  and,  contrary 
to  his  custom,  offering  no  suggestions  about 
our  journey,  feeling  perhaps  that  he  accom- 
panied me  only  on  sufferance.  As  we  traversed 
the  narrow  streets,  I  had  ample  time  for  reflec- 
tion, and  the  more  my  mind  dwelt  on  my  errand, 
the  less  it  pleased  me.  Up  to  this  time,  I  had 
been  able  to  keep  clear  of  any  entanglement 
with  the  court  intrigues,  thus  maintaining 


Il8  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

pleasant  relations  at  the  palace;  but  now  I  was 
fairly  committed  to  the  Miloslavskys,  for  if  the 
fact  that  I  had  accepted  such  a  mission  reached 
the  ears  of  the  Czarina  Natalia,  I  could  look 
for  little  toleration  from  her;  and  if  the  Narysh- 
kin  party  maintained  their  supremacy,  my  place 
at  court  would  not  be  tenable,  and  it  would  be 
impossible  for  me  to  reach  Zenai'de  Ramodan- 
ofsky.  Yet  I  had  been  forced  into  my  pre- 
dicament, having  no  choice  in  the  matter.  My 
thoughts  of  the  Czarevna  Sophia  were  scarcely 
pleasant  ones;  but  my  only  hope  was  that 
she  would  be  victorious,  and  my  errand  would 
then  be  vindicated.  I  confess,  too,  to  con- 
siderable curiosity  about  the  packet  that  I 
carried.  I  could  not  doubt  its  importance, 
and  wondered  to  what  extent  she  had  trusted 
me. 

These  reflections  were  interrupted  by  Pierrot, 
who  asked  which  of  two  roads  I  intended  to 
follow.  I  had  already  decided  on  the  shorter 
one;  but  he  objected,  on  the  ground  that  he 
knew  it  to  be  in  bad  condition,  and  that  our 
horses  might  meet  with  an  accident.  How- 
ever, I  was  too  anxious  to  be  done  with  my  dis- 
tasteful errand  to  heed  his  precautions,  and  in 
a  few  moments  we  were  riding  on  again,  care- 
fully, it  is  true,  but  yet  at  a  fair  rate  of  speed. 


THE  PACKET. 

We  had  advanced  a  considerable  distance,  when 
I  thought  that  I  heard  a  commotion  of  some 
kind  in  front,  and,  at  the  same  time,  there  was 
the  sound  of  a  horse's  hoofs  coming  rapidly 
towards  us.  In  the  darkness,  I  could  only 
discover  an  imperfect  outline  of  a  horse  and 
rider  as  they  approached  me.  I  turned  aside 
to  make  room,  but  the  stranger  reined  in  his 
horse  as  he  came  abreast  of  us.  He  uttered  an 
exclamation  in  Russian  which  I  did  not  catch, 
and  I  asked  him  what  he  had  said. 

"  You  cannot  go  on !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  an 
excited  tone;  "there  is  a  small  riot  on  the 
road.  Some  of  the  Streltsi  have  got  after  one 
of  their  officers  and  taken  him  prisoner,  and 
they  will  not  let  any  one  through  the  lines.  I 
am  going  back  to  the  city  for  help." 

"Will  they  murder  him?"  I  asked,  feeling 
that  we  ought  to  interfere. 

"No;  they  are  going  to  take  him  to  their 
own  quarters,"  the  stranger  said,  touching  his 
horse  with  his  spurs. 

I  called  after  him  to  know  if  there  was  any 
short  cut  to  the  other  road,  which  I  had 
despised.  He  replied  that  he  did  not  know, 
but  that  there  was  a  public  house  a  few  yards 
in  front  of  me,  where  I  could  get  all  the  infor- 
mation that  I  required.  If  it  had  not  been  for 


I2O  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

the  czarevna's  packet,  I  should  have  been  in- 
clined to  risk  getting  through  the  rioters ;  but 
I  knew  it  would  be  a  sorry  matter  to  fall  into 
their  hands  with  that  imperial  missive  on  my 
person.  I  foresaw  some  difficulty  and  delay  as 
it  was,  and  cursing  my  luck,  rode  forward  to 
the  house  indicated  by  the  stranger.  It"was  a 
long,  low  building  surrounded  by  a  high  wall ; 
there  was  no  light  at  the  front,  but  I  saw  one 
burning  in  the  rear,  inside  the  courtyard,  and 
the  gate  was  ajar.  Tossing  my  reins  to  Pierrot, 
I  dismounted,  and  approaching  the  gateway, 
looked  into  a  large  bare  court,  partially  illu- 
mined by  the  light  streaming  from  an  open  door 
opposite.  I  knocked  with  the  hilt  of  my  sword, 
but  there  was  no  sound  but  the  restive  plunge 
of  one  of  my  own  horses;  I  looked  back  and 
saw  Pierrot  trying  to  quiet  them.  As  there 
was  no  response,  I  pushed  open  the  gate,  which 
squeaked  angrily,  as  if  the  hinges  were  rusted. 
Crossing  the  court,  I  was  approaching  the  open 
door,  when  the  light  was  suddenly  extinguished. 
My  surprise  stayed  my  foot,  for  I  was  left  in 
total  darkness,  and  without  having  seen  any  one 
in  the  place.  In  another  moment  I  advanced 
to  the  doorway  and  struck  the  post  with  my 
fist.  I  heard  the  sound  of  feet  moving  within, 
and  bending  forward,  strained  my  eyes  to  pene- 


THE  PACKET.  121 

trate  the  darkness.  As  I  did  so,  some  one 
sprang  on  me  from  behind,  and  I  was  thrown 
heavily  face  downward  on  the  step;  before  I 
could  make  any  outcry,  my  head  was  muffled 
by  my  first  assailant,  while  another  person  kept 
my  arms  pinioned.  I  made  a  violent  effort  to 
free  myself,  but  was  perfectly  powerless  in  the 
hands  of  the  ruffians,  who  did  their  work 
silently,  although  I  thought  that  I  could  hear, 
even  through  my  muffling,  the  sound  of  a  num- 
ber of  feet.  I  remembered,  at  that  moment,  with 
regret  that  I  had  not  heeded  Pierrot's  cautions, 
and  still  hoped  that  he  might  take  alarm  and 
come  to  my  assistance;  but  the  height  of  the 
wall  precluded  all  possibility  of  seeing  into  the 
court,  even  in  the  daylight,  and  in  that  pitch 
darkness  only  an  owl  could  have  discovered 
anything.  My  mysterious  assailants  evidently 
had  some  well-defined  plan  in  their  minds; 
for  without  consultation,  or  even  speaking, 
they  proceeded  to  lift  me,  none  too  gently, 
and  carried  me  into  the  house.  However,  they 
did  not  stop  there;  but  passing  on,  I  heard  a 
heavy  door  unbarred,  and  from  the  change  of 
atmosphere,  was  sure  that  I  was  out  of  doors 
again.  Then  I  became  conscious  of  being  lifted 
into  a  carriage,  and  could  indistinctly  hear  the 
horses  prancing  as  we  started  off  at  a  rate  that 


122  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

argued  a  better  road  than  that  by  which  I  had 
approached  the  ill-fated  spot.  The  cords  which 
bound  my  arms  and  legs  hurt  not  a  little,  and, 
muffled  as  I  was,  I  found  it  even  difficult  to 
breathe.  My  thoughts  were  too  confused  to 
reason  out  the  cause  or  probable  results  of  my 
unfortunate  predicament,  but  I  was  greatly 
alarmed  for  the  safety  of  the  czarevna's  packet. 
Even  if  their  object  was  robbery  alone,  they 
would  still  be  sure  to  discover  the  papers,  and 
would  doubtless  make  use  of  them;  but  from 
the  first,  I  fancied  that  the  packet  was  the  cause 
of  my  trouble,  and  yet  was  at  loss  to  understand 
how  it  could  have  been  suspected  that  I  was  the 
bearer  of  Sophia's  messages.  Suddenly  I  re- 
membered Homyak  at  the  door  of  the  czarevna's 
apartment,  and  knew  myself  for  a  blockhead. 
Von  Gaden  had  openly  expressed  his  antipathy 
to  the  miserable  dwarf,  and  I  knew  him  to  be 
identified  with  Vladimir  Ramodanofsky,  an 
active  adherent  of  the  Naryshkins.  My  care- 
lessness had  been  my  own  undoing,  and  I  now 
suspected  that  the  story  of  the  riotous  Streltsi 
on  the  road  was  a  fable,  and  that  I  had  been 
led  into  a  snare  as  easily  as  the  veriest  simple- 
ton in  the  world.  Poor  Pierrot !  I  fancied  his 
distress,  and  only  hoped  that  his  fate  might 
not  be  worse  than  my  own.  Meanwhile,  the 


THE  PACKET.  123 

packet  still  remained  upon  my  person,  and  I  lay 
helpless  in  the  bottom  of  the  carriage.  On, 
on,  we  sped!  What  could  be  our  destination? 
The  cords  cut  more  and  more  about  my  limbs, 
and  my  breath  came  with  an  effort.  I  felt  that 
a  few  moments  more  of  this  would  strangle  me. 
I  endeavored  to  gain  some  liberty  by  contor- 
tions of  my  whole  body;  but  after  a  few  spas- 
modic movements,  I  received  a  sharp  kick  in 
the  ribs  from  one  of  my  captors,  and  found  it 
expedient  to  lie  still.  The  sensation  of  smoth- 
ering was  horrible,  the  oppression  on  the  chest, 
the  pain  at  the  heart;  and  every  movement 
was  torture.  Reaching  at  last  the  limit  of 
endurance,  I  lost  consciousness,  and  knew 
nothing  more  until  I  came  to  myself,  on  the 
floor  of  a  small  room,  my  eyes  straining  up  at 
the  low  ceiling,  and  the  morning  light  stream- 
ing in  at  a  window  opposite. 

At  the  first  awakening  I  remembered  noth- 
ing, and  was  vaguely  astonished  at  my  strange 
surroundings.  Then,  suddenly  recollecting 
what  had  occurred,  I  sat  up,  finding,  at  the 
same  time,  that  I  was  very  sore  and  stiff.  The 
cords  had  been  removed,  and  my  clothes  were 
open  at  the  throat,  so  that  I  suspected  that 
there  had  been  some  difficulty  in  reviving  me 
at  all.  Remembering  the  czarevna's  packet,  I 


124  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

felt  for  it,  only  to  find  it  gone.  Then  I  looked 
to  see  if  I  had  been  robbed;  but  no,  — to  my 
astonishment,  my  money  was  untouched,  down 
to  the  last  livre,  only  the  ring  from  my  finger 
—  my  signet  —  was  gone.  My  sword  and  pis- 
tols had  shared  the  fate  of  the  packet.  It  was 
not  difficult  to  draw  conclusions.  The  czar- 
evna's  precautions  had  been  futile,  and  I  had 
been  tracked  from  the  Kremlin,  falling,  as  I 
was  forced  to  acknowledge  to  myself,  an  easy  vic- 
tim into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  My  reflec- 
tions were  extremely  bitter;  not  only  had  I 
failed  to  execute  my  trust,  but  was  probably  a 
ruined  man.  An  account  of  this  affair  reaching 
Versailles  would  scarcely  redound  to  my  credit; 
and  if  it  was  as  serious  as  I  had  every  reason  to 
fear,  it  would  cut  short  my  career.  I  could  never 
again  expect  to  enjoy  the  confidence  of  Louvois, 
at  that  time  virtually  prime  minister  of  France, 
or  of  my  sovereign,  for  the  great  Louis  grasped 
every  detail  of  affairs,  and  even  my  ill-fated 
gallantry  was  not  likely  to  escape  that  eagle 
eye.  As  for  the  Czarevna  Sophia,  I  was  con- 
scious of  a  miserable  desire  to  escape  from 
future  encounter  with  that  princess !  I  sat  for 
a  long  time  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  in  a 
kind  of  stupor,  partly  the  result  of  my  experi- 
ence, and  partly  caused  by  my  forlorn  reflec- 


THE  PACKET.  125 

tions.  But  after  a  while  I  roused  myself,  and 
finding  that  the  door  was  securely  fastened 
without,  went  to  the  window  to  discover  the 
prospect  there. 

It  was  far  too  high  from  the  ground  to  offer 
any  means  of  escape,  so  that  at  first  I  felt  my 
position  to  be  hopeless.  It  looked  down  upon 
a  courtyard,  and  was  in  the  wing  of  a  large 
house.  My  first  glance  gave  me  no  comfort,  but 
my  second  reassured  me;  there  was  a  strange 
familiarity  about  the  place,  and  leaning  out  I 
looked  down,  and  discovered  far  below  a  pos- 
tern in  this  wing,  close  to  the  main  building, 
and  then  was  sure  of  my  recognition;  it  must 
be  the  house  of  Ramodanofsky.  A  closer  exam- 
ination of  the  building  satisfied  me.  If  I  had 
not  fancied  it  impossible,  I  should  have  recog- 
nized the  place  at  once.  I  was  no  longer  down- 
cast, but,  strange  to  say,  elated  at  the  thought 
of  being  a  prisoner  in  a  room  that  must  be 
directly  over  those  of  Zenai'de  Feodorovna.  I 
set  about  at  once  devising  some  means  of 
acquainting  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  with  my 
predicament.  At  first  it  seemed  a  nearly 
impossible  task,  and  then  I  hit  upon  an 
experiment  which  was  at  least  worth  a  trial. 
Taking  two  handkerchiefs  and  tearing  them 
in  strips,  I  knotted  and  twisted  them  into  a 


126  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

string  of  considerable  length,  and  weighting 
it  with  my  belt,  let  it  cautiously  down  from 
my  window,  until  it  swung  to  and  fro  like  a 
pendulum  before  the  casement  directly  beneath 
mine. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE  RESCUE. 

THERE  was  so  large  an  element  of  chance 
about  my  experiment  that  I  watched  the  dan- 
gling belt  with  the  interest  of  a  gambler.  It 
might  very  easily  attract  the  notice  of  the  in- 
mate of  the  room  below,  but  would  that  be 
Mademoiselle  Eudoxie?  I  knew  that  the  room 
in  which  she  slept  had  a  window  opening  on 
the  opposite  side  upon  the  street,  for  it  was  at 
that  window  that  she  was  to  place  her  signal  in 
the  event  of  requiring  my  services.  It  was  a 
strange  reverse  of  circumstance,  that  I  should 
be  signaling  for  her  help  at  another  spot  in  the 
same  house.  I  had  lowered  my  flag  of  distress 
until  it  was  directly  in  front  of  the  window,  and 
the  heavy  belt,  with  its  silver  fastenings,  was 
too  conspicuous  to  escape  the  notice  of  some 
one,  friend  or  foe.  I  waited  for  a  while,  in 
painful  suspense,  leaning  out  over  the  sill,  and 
looking  down  at  the  slowly  vibrating  signal,  all 


128  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

the  while  hoping  to  see  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie's 
thin  face  and  sportive  gray  curls  appear  below. 

At  last  my  uncertainty  was  ended,  but  not  by 
the  expected  vision.  Instead,  a  light-haired, 
fair-faced  girl  looked  up  in  genuine  astonish- 
ment, and  Ze'na'fde's  eyes  met  mine.  She  was 
at  first  too  surprised  to  do  more  than  gaze  at 
me  in  perfect  bewilderment,  and  I  returned  her 
regard  with  a  stupid  amazement.  For  some 
reason  I  had  not  thought  of  arousing  Zenai'de. 
She  was  the  first  to  recover  herself,  and  appar- 
ently comprehended  something  of  the  situation. 
She  withdrew,  and  almost  immediately  Made- 
moiselle Eudoxie  really  did  look  up;  and  even 
in  that  predicament  I  could  scarcely  restrain  a 
smile  at  her  evident  horror  and  alarm.  She 
signed  to  me  that  they  understood,  and  then 
her  head  also  vanished,  and  I  withdrew  my 
singular  signal,  fearing  that  it  might  attract 
the  attention  of  less  friendly  eyes. 

There  was  nothing  to  be  done  now  but  to 
await  developments,  which  I  did  with  all  the 
patience  I  could  command.  It  was  some  little 
time  before  I  heard  light  steps  outside  my  door; 
and  after  some  fumbling  with  the  fastenings,  it 
was  thrown  open,  revealing  Zenai'de  upon  the 
threshold,  and  mademoiselle  looking  over  her 
shoulder  with  an  expression  of  astonishment 


THE  RESCUE.  1 29 

difficult  to  describe.  I  was  conscious  of  cut- 
ting a  sorry  figure,  for  I  must  have  borne  the 
marks  of  the  hard  usage  of  the  previous  night. 
Zenaide  did  not  seem  to  require  any  explana- 
tion of  my  presence,  probably  imagining  that 
it  was  due  to  some  of  her  uncle's  violence;  but 
to  mademoiselle  I  had  to  make  a  lengthy  state- 
ment, which  had  the  effect  of  turning  her  sur- 
prise to  alarm. 

"  Z6nai'de,  dear,  we  must  get  him  right  out !  " 
she  cried  nervously.  "It  is  a  great  risk  to 
delay  a  moment.  Your  uncle  —  the  ser- 
vants —  " 

Zenaide  glanced  at  her  with  that  kind  of 
scorn  that  a  strong  nature  feels  for  a  weak 
one. 

"You  forget,  dear  mademoiselle,"  she  said 
calmly,  "that  my  uncle  is  indisposed  to-day.; 
has  been  so  since  the  czar's  funeral,  and  the 
serfs  will  not  interfere  with  me,"  she  added, 
with  a  certain  hauteur  which  became  her  well, 
and  which  evidently  revived  the  sinking  spirits 
of  the  older  woman.  It  was  plain  that  she  was 
in  the  habit  of  relying  on  the  young  girl's 
strength  of  will  rather  than  on  her  own. 

"  Nevertheless,  Mademoiselle  Ramodanof- 
sky, "  I  said  earnestly,  "I  must  escape  as  soon 
as  possible,  for  I  was  the  bearer  of  an  important 
9 


130  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

packet,  and  know  not  how  serious  may  be  the 
consequences  of  its  loss." 

She  looked  at  me  anxiously,  the  danger  of 
my  situation  seeming  to  have  surmounted  her 
first  embarrassment,  so  that  she  spoke  to  and 
regarded  me  as  an  old  friend  rather  than  a 
new  admirer. 

"  A  packet,  M.  de  Brousson, "  she  said  thought- 
fully; "it  may  be  that  I  know  something  of 
it,"  and  she  questioned  me  about  its  size  and  ap- 
pearance, listening  attentively  to  my  description. 

"That  packet  only  left  this  house  an  hour 
since,"  she  said.  "I  was  in  attendance  upon 
my  uncle,  and  saw  him  give  it  to  a  dwarf  just 
as  I  was  leaving  the  room. " 

I  questioned  her  eagerly,  and  was  soon  assured 
that  the  dwarf  was  none  other  than  the  eaves- 
dropper Homyak,  and  my  heart  sank  as  I 
divined  the  probable  destination  of  the  czar- 
evna's  packet,  and  pictured  her  anger  and  con- 
sternation; for  of  course  it  would  reach  the 
hands  of  the  Czarina  Natalia. 

While  Zena'fde  talked  to  me  about  the  dwarf, 
Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  hovered  at  the  door  of 
the  apartment  like  a  frightened  mother  bird 
trying  to  guard  the  young  ones  from  the 
marauder;  and  as  soon  as  there  was  a  pause, 
she  recurred  to  her  first  exclamation. 


THE  RESCUE.  131 

"  We  must  get  him  out,  Ze'nai'de !  "  she  said, 
wringing  her  hands ;  "  we  must  get  him  out  at 
once ! " 

"  Is  there  any  reason  to  prevent  me  from 
going  directly  down  the  stairs  and  out,  the  way 
I  did  the  other  evening  ?  "  I  asked. 

"Many  reasons,"  Zenalde  answered  quietly. 
"  You  are  unarmed,  and  you  would  never  reach 
the  gate  of  the  courtyard. " 

I  began  to  share  mademoiselle's  evident 
anxiety.  We  all  three  gazed  at  each  other  in 
perplexity,  only  Zenaide's  face  expressed  a  keen 
thoughtfulness  that  reassured  me.  I  felt  that 
she  had  all  a  woman's  delicate  intuition  and  a 
lively  intelligence. 

"There  is  only  one  way,"  she  .said  at  last, 
glancing  with  a  smile  from  Mademoiselle 
Eudoxie's  tall,  angular  form  to  mine;  "it  is 
fortunate  that  mademoiselle  is  so  tall." 

I  began  to  divine  her  project,  and  my  cheek 
burned.  I  knew  how  keen  was  a  girl's  sense 
of  the  ridiculous,  and  it  was  my  last  wish  to 
appear  absurd  before  Z6na'ide  Feodorovna. 

"Mademoiselle  Eudoxie,"  she  said,  speaking 
with  the  assured  tone  of  one  whose  resolution 
is  formed,  "take  M.  de  Brousson  down  to  your 
apartments,  and  give  him  your  long  mantle 
and  hood  and  veil,  and  I  will  order  the  car- 


132  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

riage  for  you.  You  understand,  you  are  ill, 
and  require  a  consultation  with  the  doctor,  and 
old  Konrat  can  drive  the  coach." 

"Capital!  capital!"  exclaimed  mademoiselle, 
clapping  her  hands  with  the  glee  of  a  child. 
"  You  are  a  witch,  Ze"naide!  Follow  me,  Mon- 
sieur Philippe;  we  have  no  time  to  lose." 

I  protested.  I  grew  hot  at  the  thought  of 
figuring  before  Zenalcle  in  petticoats  and  cloak, 
like  an  old  woman ;  but  they  would  not  listen 
to  my  objections,  and  finally  I  reflected  that 
liberty  was  sweet,  even  at  the  cost  of  a  little 
laughter  at  my  expense,  and  it  was  sweeter  still 
to  owe  it  to  Zena'fde.  So  I  was  smuggled  down 
the  stairs  into  a  little  anteroom,  off  Mademoi- 
selle Eudoxie's  quarters,  and  there  left  to  array 
myself  in  a  petticoat  and  hooded  mantle.  I 
took  much  time  to  do  it,  being  utterly  con- 
founded by  the  multitude  of  strings  and  but- 
tons, and  feeling  myself  a  fool  for  my  pains. 
Having  finally  completed  my  toilet,  to  my  great 
confusion,  and  tapped  on  mademoiselle's  door, 
she  opened  it  and  bade  me  enter  her  boudoir. 
Zenai'de  was  there  also,  and  both  women  viewed 
me  for  a  moment  in  silence,  and  then  Zenai'de 
gave  way  to  mirth.  Her  laughter,  although 
musical  enough,  struck  a  discord  on  my  ear  at 
that  moment. 


THE  RESCUE.  133 

"Pardon  me,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  said,  her 
fair  face  flushed  with  merriment  and  her  beau- 
tiful eyes  dancing,  "but  oh,  mademoiselle,  look 
—  look  at  his  feet !  " 

I  looked  down  with  a  feeling  of  utter  helpless- 
ness, and  to  my  consternation  saw  that  made- 
moiselle's petticoat  came  only  half  way  between 
knee  and  ankle,  and  my  booted  and  spurred  feet 
were  in  evidence  below  the  too  scanty  skirt. 
Even  mademoiselle  laughed  as  she  realized  the 
effect  of  my  figure,  but  she  was  quicker  in  con- 
ceiving a  remedy  than  she  had  been  in  contriv- 
ing an  escape.  The  old  woman  approached  me 
with  the  air  of  a  mother  about  to  adjust  the 
clothing  of  a  child,  and  with  a  few  dexterous 
touches  managed  to  loosen  strings  and  fasten 
with  pins  until  the  skirt  fell  over  my  feet;  and, 
at  Zenaide's  suggestion,  she  removed  my  spurs. 
Then  muffling  my  face  in  a  veil  and  adjust- 
ing my  hood,  with  the  air  of  bestowing  a  ben- 
ediction upon  the  enterprise,  Mademoiselle 
Eudoxie  finally  handed  me  over  to  her  pupil's 
guidance,  while  she  retired,  to  remain  in 
concealment  until  the  successful  execution  of 
our  plot. 

Left  alone  with  Z^nalde,  I  secretly  fumed  at 
my  absurd  appearance,  and  the  necessity  for 
caution.  Here  was  my  first  opportunity  to  talk 


134  ON   THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

alone  to  the  object  of  my  devotion,  and  I  was 
absurdly  dressed  in  an  old  woman's  mantle  and 
petticoat  and  half  suffocated  with  this  atrocity 
of  a  veil.  I  began  to  realize  the  difficulties 
which  beset  a  woman,  and  to  admire  the  intre- 
pidity of  spirit  that  can  not  only  endure  such 
garments,  but  do  more  than  that,  —  resemble  an 
angel  in  them  !  Whether  or  not  Ze*nai'de  appre- 
ciated my  misery  I  am  not  sure,  but  she  had 
sufficient  forbearance  to  restrain  her  mirth  and 
reply  to  my  remarks  with  suitable  gravity, 
although  more  than  once  I  fancied  that  I  saw 
a  gleam  of  mischief  in  the  blue  eyes  as  they 
rested  upon  me.  Her  manner  was  demureness 
itself,  and  she  conducted  me  through  the  ante- 
room and  along  the  hall  without  a  word.  As 
we  were  descending  the  stairs,  we  encountered 
two  servant-maids  coming  up,  and  Zenai'de  ex- 
plained to  them  that  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  was 
indisposed  and  was  going  to  the  doctor's.  I 
noticed  that  they  both  regarded  me  with  a 
slightly  bewildered  air;  but  my  fair  guide  passed 
them  as  if  they  were  not  worth  a  thought,  and 
I  followed  as  well  as  I  could,  but  found  my 
petticoats  even  more  difficult  to  manage  than 
I  had  supposed.  When  we  reached  the  lower 
floor,  Zena'fde  led  me  into  a  small  room  to 
await  the  arrival  of  the  carriage,  and  going  to 


THE   RESCUE.  135 

an  escritoire  in  the  corner,  she  took  out 
a  pistol,  and  after  a  glance  at  it,  handed  it 
to  me. 

"It  may  be  that  you  will  have  need  of  it, 
M.  le  Vicomte, "  she  said  gravely.  "It  is 
loaded ;  conceal  it  under  your  cloak. " 

"  Is  it  yours,  mademoiselle  ?  "  I  asked  quickly, 
for  something  in  her  manner  made  me  divine 
the  truth. 

She  bowed  her  head  in  assent.  "  It  was  my 
father's;  he  brought  the  two  from  France." 

I  pressed  it  back,  but  she  waved  her  hand. 

"Keep  it,  monsieur,"  she  said  simply,  "I 
have  the  mate." 

"  You  are  never  without  arms  then,  mademoi- 
selle?" I  said. 

She  glanced  at  me  searchingly,  and  instantly 
I  remembered  Von  Gaden's  remark  that  she 
had  her  father's  spirit.  There  was  something 
about  her  mouth  which  suggested  the  quick 
decision  and  unfaltering  resolution  that  prop- 
erly belong  to  the  sterner  sex. 

"  I  am  never  unprepared  for  the  worst,  M.  de 
Brousson,"  she  replied  calmly.  "I  have  neither 
father  nor  mother  nor  brother  to  protect  me. 
I  am  an  orphan,  and  here  in  Russia  a  girl 
has  little  freedom  of  choice." 

"Pardon  me,  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  strongly 


136  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

moved,  "I  have  learned  that  your  uncle  is 
forcing  an  unwelcome  marriage  upon  you; 
are  you  in  any  danger  of  being  compelled  to 
submission?  " 

The  color  blazed  on  the  delicate  cheek,  and 
for  a  moment  I  saw  pride  struggling  with  a 
weaker  feeling;  then  her  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
and  she  clasped  her  hands  together  in  an  effort 
to  maintain  her  composure. 

"  I  cannot  be  forced  into  that  marriage,  mon- 
sieur," she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "for  I  can  die." 

"  Mademoiselle ! "  I  cried  out,  "  is  it  as  bad 
as  that  ? " 

She  bent  her  head,  and  I  saw  the  tears  glis- 
tening on  her  eyelashes.  I  forgot  my  situation, 
I  forgot  my  absurd  guise,  and  in  a  moment  I 
was  kneeling  beside  her,  with  one  of  her  hands 
clasped  in  mine. 

"Mademoiselle  Ze*naide,"  I  said,  in  a  low 
voice,  "he  shall  never  so  sacrifice  you  while 
I  live.  There  is  one  sword  always  at  your 
service. " 

Her  beautiful  face  was  crimson  with  embar- 
rassment, and  her  hand  fluttered  in  my  detain- 
ing clasp ;  but  I  saw  that  she  was  deeply  touched, 
even  if  half  frightened  at  my  vehemence. 

"Alas,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  exclaimed, 
looking  at  me  sorrowfully,  "what  could  you  do 


THE   RESCUE.  137 

among  so  many?  How  could  you  oppose  my 
uncle?" 

Remembering  the  lost  packet  and  Sophia's 
probable  displeasure,  I  was  a  little  nonplussed 
myself. 

"  I  would  find  some  way  to  save  you !  "  I  ex- 
claimed. "For  my  king's  sake,  I  am  privi- 
leged at  court,  and  I  would  appeal  to  the  czar." 

"Ah,  no!"  she  said,  at  once  losing  hope, 
"you  forget  that  the  man  whom  my  uncle  has 
selected  is  a  cousin  of  the  Czar  Peter. " 

"  It  matters  not ! "  I  exclaimed  desperately, 
"  I  would  find  a  way ;  your  uncle  has  no  right 
to  barter  your  happiness." 

She  smiled  bitterly.  "  A  young  girl's  happi- 
ness is  not  often  considered,"  she  said;  "some- 
times I  think  it  is  better  to  be  old  and  ugly  like 
Mademoiselle  Eudoxie,  since  no  one  could 
desire  to  marry  her." 

"Never  regret  being  beautiful,  mademoi- 
selle," I  said  impulsively,  "since  you  can  give 
happiness  by  merely  smiling  upon  the  rest  of 
us  poor  mortals !  " 

"  Hush  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  hear  a  footstep. 
Arise,  M.  le  Vicomte.  If  the  door  is  opened 
now,  you  are  betrayed." 

"  I  will  not  rise  until  I  have  thanked  you,"  I 
replied  gallantly,  "for  it  is  to  you  I  owe  my 


138  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

liberty,  perhaps  my  life,  and,  mademoiselle,   I 
find  the  debt  a  sweet  one." 

"It  is  nothing,"  she  cried  hurriedly;  "but  if 
you  do  not  rise,  monsieur,  you  will  betray  me, 
and  bring  down  a  deluge  on  my  head." 

At  this  I  stumbled    awkwardly  to  my  feet, 

'and  she,  seeming  to  feel   that   she  had   been 

hasty,  held  out  her  hand  with  a  blush  and  a 

smile,  and  as  I  pressed  it  to  my  lips,  she  spoke 

to  me  in  a  sweet  and  slightly  faltering  tone. 

"I  thank  you,"  she  said,  "for  your  sympathy. 
I  am  a  lonely  orphan,  and  your  friendship  for 
mademoiselle  and  me  is  peculiarly  valuable  to 
us.  But  alas !  I  am  too  carefully  guarded  for  a 
stranger  to  help  me;  therefore,  go,  monsieur, 
and  forget  me,  though  I  shall  remember  always 
your  thought  for  my  fate." 

I  flung  back  my  head.  "Mademoiselle,"  I 
said  steadfastly,  "  I  will  neither  forget  you  nor 
fail  you;  in  your  hour  of  need  I  will  —  " 

I  know  not  how  much  more  I  would  have 
said,  for  she  was  listening  with  downcast  and 
blushing  face;  but,  at  this  moment,  a  lackey 
announced  the  carriage,  and  I  was  forced  to 
make  an  awkward  exit,  Z6naide  giving  all  the 
directions  for  me. 

"  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  cannot  speak  clearly," 
she  said  serenely;  "she  has  a  severe  toothache. 


THE    RESCUE.  139 

Konrat,  drive  directly  to  Dr.  von  Gaden's 
house  and  leaving  mademoiselle  there,  return 
and  report  to  me.  An  revoir,  mademoiselle, 
and  may  your  tooth  be  soon  quieted. " 

And  the  carriage  drove  slowly  out  of  the 
court,  leaving  her  standing  on  the  doorstep, 
with  the  rare  Russian  sunlight  touching  her 
golden  hair,  and  a  blush  like  a  rose  on  her  fair 
young  cheek. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

PRAVEZH.i 

I  WAS  not  a  little  thankful  when  the  carriage 
stopped  at  Von  Gaden's  door  and  I  got  out  at 
last;  nearly  falling  as  I  did  so,  for  my  skirts 
became  involved  in  the  wheel,  displaying,  I  fear, 
a  masculine  leg;  however,  I  saw  the  coach 
drive  off  sedately  with  Konrat,  as  stoical  as  at 
first,  holding  the  reins.  Dr.  von  Gaden's  ser- 
vant looked  a  little  perplexed  when  he  saw  me 
standing  at  the  door,  but  ushered  me  into  the 
doctor's  consulting-room,  saying  that  he  ex- 
pected Von  Gaden  every  moment.  As  soon  as 
I  was  alone,  I  began  to  remove  my  disguise, 
and  had  just  thrown  aside  my  veil  and  hood 
when  the  Jew  opened  the  door.  He  stood 
transfixed  on  the  threshold  for  a  moment,  and 
then,  as  he  comprehended  the  situation,  a  smile 
illumined  his  grave  face. 

"Poor  Pierrot!"  he  exclaimed  at  once,  "I 
must  notify  him;  the  man  has  been  beside 
himself." 

1  Public  flogging  or  torture. 


PRAVEZH.  141 

My  conscience  smote  me  that  I  had  never  once 
thought  of  the  poor  fellow. 

"  Where  is  he  ? "  I  inquired,  as  I  proceeded 
hastily  to  divest  myself  of  my  petticoats,  for  I 
was  anxious  to  feel  like  a  man  once  more. 

"He  is  scouring  Moscow,"  Von  Gaden  said; 
"he  came  here,  towards  morning,  and  told  me 
that  you  had  gone  into  a  courtyard  to  make  an 
inquiry  and  had  never  come  out,  and  when  he 
followed  and  searched,  he  found  the  court  and 
house  both  deserted.  I  have  been  twice  to 
the  palace  to  petition  for  aid  in  the  search  for 
you,  and  Pierrot  is  like  one  possessed.  Tell 
me,  man,  how  came  you  here,  and  in  this 
garb?" 

I  gave  him,  as  briefly  as  I  could,  the  history 
of  my  adventure,  and  saw  that  his  keen  mind  at 
once  grasped  the  serious  phase  of  the  situation. 
He  looked  at  me  gravely. 

"  Homyak  took  the  packet  ?  "  he  repeated 
thoughtfully,  as  I  concluded.  "A  sorry  mes- 
senger, but  an  old  tool  of  Ramodanofsky's.  I 
saw  the  dwarf,  not  a  half-hour  since,  going 
towards  the  Streltsi  quarters.  I  wonder,"  he 
added  musingly,  "  if  he  had  already  delivered 
his  packet,  or  was  drawn  away  from  his  er- 
rand to  feast  his  eyes  upon  that  disgusting 
scene.  You  have  come  back  upon  an  event- 


142  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ful  day,  M.  de  Brousson;  to-day,  the  officers 
of  the  Streltsi  will  be  subjected  to  the 
pravezh" 

"  Is  it  possible  that  the  Streltsi  have  carried 
that  point  ?  "  I  exclaimed  in  surprise.  "  That 
means  mutiny." 

The  doctor  bowed  his  head  gravely. 

"It  means,"  he  said,  "that  the  government  is 
not  strong  enough  to  resist  a  force  of  twenty- 
two  thousand  men,  the  only  disciplined  force 
in  Russia  to-day.  The  officers  are  to  be 
scourged  in  the  quarters  of  the  Streltsi,  and 
there  is  intense  excitement  in  the  city  arid  at 
the  Kremlin." 

"This  is  hideous!"  I  exclaimed.  "Who 
are  the  officers  ? " 

Von  Gaden  gave  me  a  list  of  names. 

"Colonels  Griboyedof  and  Karandeyef  will 
be  scourged  with  the  knout,  twelve  others  with 
rods.  The  Streltsi  will  regulate  the  severity 
of  the  punishment,  and  after  suffering  this 
degradation,"  he  added,  "the  officers  will  be 
allowed  to  go  to  their  country  places,  in  dis- 
grace, when  they  have  paid  back  all  the  money 
claimed  by  the  soldiers." 

"  And  the  Streltsi  will  look  for  fresh  excite- 
ment," I  said. 

"Even  so,"  replied  Von  Gaden,  gravely;  "it 


PRAVEZH.  143 

is  the  beginning  of  the  end,  and  woe  to  the  hand 
that  unchains  the  wild  beast !  " 

While  we  were  talking,  I  had  fastened 
ZenaTde's  pistol  in  my  belt,  and  I  now  asked 
the  doctor  for  a  sword  and  a  cloak. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  he  inquired,  while 
complying  with  my  request. 

"In  search  of  Homyak,"  I  replied  briefly; 
"and  failing  to  find  him,  I  must  make  my  peace 
with  the  czarevna. " 

"  You  will  find  Homyak  gloating  over  the 
scourging,"  Von  Gaden  said;  "but  I  fear  it  will 
be  less  easy  to  make  peace  with  the  princess : 
she  is  a  true  daughter  of  a  czar,  and  nothing  if 
not  a  tyrant  born." 

"You  have  no  love  for  Sophia,"  I  remarked, 
smiling. 

Von  Gaden  shook  his  head.  "  My  warmest 
friendship  has  ever  been  for  the  Czarina  Nata- 
lia," he  said  quietly.  "I  knew  her  as  a  young 
girl  in  her  guardian's  house.  I  saw  her  in  the 
midst  of  the  dangers  and  intrigues  of  her  early 
married  life,  and  I  see  her  now  fighting  steadily 
for  her  boy,  who,  as  you  and  I  both  know,  is  the 
only  czarevitch  fitted  to  ascend  the  throne.  No, 
I  do  not  love  the  Miloslavskys,  for  I  have  seen 
them  day  by  day  playing  into  the  hands  of  the 
turbulent  soldiers;  working  by  fair  means  or 


144  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE- 

by  foul  —  for  what  ?  Not  to  put  a  blind  imbe- 
cile on  the  throne.  No,  no,  but  to  crown  the 
Czarevna  Sophia  herself." 

I  started,  although  these  were  only  my  own 
conclusions  voiced  by  the  Jew. 

"  Is  that  the  possible  climax  of  the  drama?  " 
I  asked  quickly,  thinking  with  a  sensation  of 
despair  of  the  lost  packet. 

"Possible,"  he  answered  slowly,  "although 
difficult.  I  am  glad  that  the  ex-Chancellor 
Matveief  is  coming  at  last.  But  hasten,  M.  le 
Vicomte,"  he  added,  rousing  himself  suddenly, 
"your  errand  is  best  served  by  speed,  and  I 
have  delayed  you  with  my  own  reveries." 

Once  in  the  street,  I  proceeded  rapidly 
towards  the  quarters  of  the  Streltsi,  accom- 
panied thither  by  the  stragglers  of  the  crowd 
that  had  preceded  me.  There  was  every  evi- 
dence of  intense  excitement,  and  as  I  came 
nearer,  I  was  involved  in  a  mass  of  people 
struggling  and  shouting  in  the  effort  to  approach 
the  scene.  It  took  all  my  strength  to  wedge 
myself  into  the  throng,  and  then  it  was  still 
more  impossible  to  guide  myself,  and  I  was  at 
the  mercy  of  the  mob,  and  began  to  regret  the 
foolhardiness  that  had  induced  me  to  seek  the 
dwarf  at  such  a  time;  but  it  was  equally  impos- 
sible to  retrace  my  steps.  There  could  be  no 


PRAVEZH.  145 

stronger  evidence  of  the  state  of  feeling  among 
the  masses  than  was  exhibited  by  this  crowd, 
ripe  for  any  mischief  and  ferocious  at  the 
thought  of  wreaking  vengeance  on  their  supe- 
riors. It  cost  an  effort  to  escape  being  tram- 
pled under  foot,  and  more  than  one  of  the  weaker 
ones  went  down  and  they  passed  over  them,  no 
one  pausing  to  consider  the  fate  of  the  unfortu- 
nates, for  fear  of  sharing  it. 

So,  pushed  and  tossed  about  by  these  wild 
beasts,  I  found  myself  at  last,  without  any  wish 
of  my  own,  among  the  spectators  of  the  justice 
administered  by  the  Streltsi.  The  soldiers 
were  formed  in  an  immense  circle  in  an  open 
place.  In  the  center  of  this  cruel  ring  were 
the  executioners  with  the  knout  and  rods,  and 
one  of  the  officers  was  stripped  to  the  waist  and 
bound,  while  the  lashes  fell  with  merciless  force 
on  his  already  bleeding  back.  It  was  a  sicken- 
ing sight,  and  the  more  revolting  because  of  the 
evident  enjoyment  of  the  onlookers.  I  searched 
the  dark  faces  near  me  for  a  glimmer  of  mercy, 
but  found  none.  Only  a  kind  of  horrid  pleasure 
gleamed  in  their  eyes.  How  deep  must  have 
been  the  sting  of  their  wrongs  to  have  excited 
such  hatred !  The  officer,  who  was  Colonel 
Gryboyedof,  stood  the  torture  with  heroic  forti- 
tude, and  although  the  blood  was  running  down 


146  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

his  back,  uttered  no  sound.  The  mob  was  in- 
tensely silent  too,  as  if  eager  to  catch  the  first 
moan  of  pain  uttered  by  the  unfortunate  man. 
Even  the  executioner's  arm  faltered  a  little,  as 
if  his  task  was  sickening,  but  a  shout  of 
"  harder  "  from  the  crowd,  nerved  it  to  an  in- 
creased effort.  I  tried  to  release  myself  from 
the  press  at  the  front,  and  when  Gryboyedof 
fell  fainting,  my  opportunity  came,  there  was 
a  rush  forward  which  somewhat  relieved  the 
pressure  about  me,  and  I  began  to  extricate 
myself,  and  even  as  I  did  so,  discovered  the 
object  of  my  search.  Homyak  had  evidently 
seen  me  in  the  crowd,  and  was  endeavoring 
to  slip  away  unobserved.  Making  a  strong 
effort,  I  shook  myself  free  and  started  in  pur- 
suit of  the  rascal.  As  I  did  so,  fresh  cries 
from  behind  made  me  turn,  and  I  could  see 
above  the  heads  of  the  crowd  that  they  had 
substituted  two  fresh  victims  in  the  place  of 
the  first. 

I  soon  saw  that  Homyak  was  endeavoring  to 
get  away  in  the  direction  of  the  Ragoshkaya 
suburbs,  and  I  followed  as  rapidly  as  I  could. 
Fortunately,  he  did  not  apparently  observe  my 
movements  now ;  he  looked  back  once  or  twice, 
but  each  time  at  the  group  about  the  prisoners. 
It  was  marvelous  to  see  with  what  rapidity  he 


PRAVEZH.  147 

penetrated  the  crowd,  his  diminutive  stature 
seeming  rather  a  help  than  a  hindrance,  for  he 
dodged  under  elbows  and  squeezed  through  gaps, 
which  defied  my  greater  bulk.  However,  by 
the  force  of  perseverance,  I  managed  to  keep 
him  in  sight,  and  finally  found  myself  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  mob.  The  dwarf  was  possibly 
fifty  yards  in  advance,  and  was  walking  rapidly 
towards  a  narrow  lane  to  the  right.  Being  free 
at  last  of  the  press  of  people,  I  could  follow 
him  with  more  speed,  and  soon  diminished  the 
distance  between  us.  Fortunately,  he  no  longer 
looked  behind ;  being  out  of  sight  of  the  scourg- 
ing, he  seemed  to  give  his  mind  to  some  other 
purpose,  and  sped  along,  gaining  less  on  me  now 
that  the  conditions  were  equal.  We  plunged 
into  the  lane,  and  soon  the  hoarse  murmur 
of  the  crowd  and  the  sharp  crack  of  the  lash 
became  less  distinctly  audible,  and  we  were 
beyond  the  last  straggler.  The  place  seemed 
strangely  deserted,  as  the  streets  of  a  city 
always  are  when  some  great  disturbance  has 
drawn  the  population  to  one  quarter,  draining 
the  streets  and  alleys  and  even  emptying  the 
houses.  Once,  a  woman  looked  out  of  an 
upper  window  as  I  passed,  but  that  was  the 
only  face  I  saw  in  the  whole  length  of  the  lane. 
At  the  farther  end,  Homyak  paused  and  fum- 


148  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

bled  at  his  cloak,  seeming  to  be  engaged  in 
searching  for  something;  that  stop  gave  me 
time  to  overtake  him.  I  was  upon  him  before 
he  knew  it,  and  he  turned  a  scared,  wizened 
face  towards  me  as  I  came  up.  I  saw  at  a 
glance  that  his  first  impulse  was  to  run,  but 
second  thought  evidently  convinced  him  that  I 
ought  to  be  ignorant  of  his  part  in  the  transac- 
tion. He  was  destined  to  a  rude  awakening; 
the  lonely  spot  suited  my  purpose,  and  in  a 
moment  I  had  him  by  the  throat  and  put  my 
pistol  to  his  head. 

"You  villain!"  I  exclaimed  angrily,  my 
remembrance  of  the  previous  night  increasing 
my  wrath.  "  Give  up  that  packet  as  you  value 
your  miserable  life." 

The  dwarf  was  an  abject  coward,  and  he 
writhed  in  my  hands  in  an  agony  of  terror,  his 
whole  face  distorted. 

"  Have  mercy ! "  he  whimpered.  "  I  know 
nothing  of  any  packet.  I  am  a  poor,  honest 
man,  and  not  able  to  resist  you. " 

I  pressed  the  muzzle  of  my  pistol  against  his 
temple,  although  I  heard  his  teeth  chatter. 

"You  miserable  dog!"  I  exclaimed.  "Do 
you  think  I  have  forgotten  who  lay  outside  the 
czarevna's  door?  Give  me  the  packet  that  the 
Boyar  Ramodanofsky  gave  you,  or  I  will  send 


PRAVEZH.  149 

you  into  eternity  by  the  shortest  road  you  can 
travel ! " 

He  was  terribly  frightened ;  having  no  idea 
how  I  came  by  my  accurate  information,  he 
evidently  imagined  that  I  was  acquainted  with 
the  black  arts.  He  made  no  further  effort  to 
resist  me,  but  after  a  little  search  in  his 
pockets,  produced  the  packet  and  handed  it  to 
me.  I  released  his  throat  to  take  it,  but  kept 
my  pistol  at  his  head  until  I  could  examine 
the  seals,  and  was  satisfied  that  it  was  the 
identical  packet,  and  strange  to  relate,  not  a 
seal  was  broken. 

"Knave,"  I  said,  "where  were  you  taking 
this?" 

A  gleam  of  malicious  satisfaction  shone  in 
Homyak's  eyes,  and  yet  I  was  satisfied  that  he 
told  the  truth  when  he  replied,  only  enjoying 
the  thought  of  my  probable  discomfiture  when 
I  heard  who  was  arrayed  against  me. 

"  I  was  to  take  it  to  the  patriarch,"  he  said. 

I  started.  The  patriarch !  Yes,  it  might  be 
so,  for  he  was  a  member  of  the  Sabelief  family, 
and  a  strong  adherent  of  the  Naryshkins;  but 
what  a  complication !  Sophia's  secret  intrigues 
to  be  laid  bare  before  Joachim. 

I  released  the  dwarf  with  a  hearty  kick. 
"Go,"  I  exclaimed;  "and  if  I  ever  find  you 


150  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

meddling  with  my  affairs  again,  I  will  cut  off 
your  head  just  behind  your  ears !  " 

Homyak  did  not  wait  for  further  admonition, 
but  scurried  away  like  a  rabbit,  only  too  thank- 
ful to  get  my  fingers  off  his  throat. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

PRINCE   BASIL   GALITSYN. 

ALTHOUGH  the  packet  was  again  safe  in  my 
possession,  I  was  in  some  perplexity.  The 
czarevna's  directions  were  emphatic.  I  was  to 
have  delivered  it  into  Prince  Galitsyn's  hands 
on  the  previous  evening,  and  he  was  then  tem- 
porarily at  the  house  of  the  Boyar  Urusof. 
Where  the  prince  was  now,  and  what  the 
czarevna's  present  wishes  in  regard  to  the 
ill-fated  packet,  I  was  at  loss  to  conjecture. 
Yet  it  did  not  occur  to  me  to  go  back  to  the 
Kremlin,  and  restore  her  missive  with  only 
the  plain  story  of  my  defeat.  While  I  was  cast- 
ing about  in  my  mind  for  a  ready  solution  of  my 
difficult  problem,  I  heard  the  sound  of  a  horse's 
hoofs,  and  a  rider  entered  the  farther  end  of  the 
lane;  as  he  approached,  I  recognized  Pierrot. 
He  uttered  an  exclamation,  and  slipping  from 
the  saddle,  stood  before  me,  as  stoical  as  ever, 
save  for  a  gleam  of  relief  in  his  eyes.  I  was 


152  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

more  glad  to  see  the  knave  than  I  let  him 
know. 

"How  came  you  to  seek  me  here?"  I  ex- 
claimed, feigning  ignorance  of  his  search  for 
me. 

"I  went  back  to  the  doctor's,"  he  replied 
calmly,  "  and  he  told  me  that  you  had  gone  in 
this  direction.  You  had  better  take  my  horse, 
M.  leVicomte,"  he  added,  "and  I  will  return 
on  foot. " 

"Have  you  heard  anything  at  the  Kremlin 
to-day?  "  I  asked,  after  a  moment's  thought. 

"  Only  of  the  excitement  over  the  granting  of 
the  petitions  of  the  Streltsi,"  he  replied. 

"Is  Prince  Basil  Galitsyn  there?"  I  asked, 
hoping  he  might  have  some  information. 

"No,  monsieur,"  he  said;  "the  prince  has 
not  gone  to  the  Kremlin,  but  has  just  arrived 
at  his  own  palace,  for  I  passed  there  but  three 
quarters  of  an -hour  since,  and  he  had  just 
come. " 

My  mind  was  made  up  at  once. 

"I  will  take  your  horse,  Pierrot,"  I  said; 
"  and  you  can  return  and  prepare  my  dinner,  for 
I  shall  be  hungry.  Stay,"  I  added,  as  he 
turned  to  go,  "tell  Dr.  von  Gaden  that  I  go  to 
Prince  Basil  Galitsyn's  house  and  from  there  I 
shall  return  to  my  quarters. " 


PRINCE  BASIL    GALITSYN.  153 

I  took  this  precaution,  remembering  my 
experience  with  the  czarevna's  papers,  and 
fearing  that  they  might  bring  me  ill  luck 
again.  Then  I  turned  my  horse's  head  in  the 
direction  of  the  prince's  palace,  and  made  what 
speed  I  could,  traversing  deserted  streets  again, 
for  all  the  city  was  feasting  on  the  hideous 
spectacle  in  the  quarters  of  the  Streltsi. 

My  acquaintance  with  Galitsyn  was  slight; 
but  I  had  early  recognized  his  ability,  and  since 
Von  Gaden's  eulogium,  had  taken  a  greater 
interest  in  him.  That  his  star  would  rise  in 
case  of  Sophia's  success,  I  did  not  doubt,  and 
I  felt  some  curiosity  about  the  probable  result 
of  such  an  event. 

Galitsyn  was  at  home,  and  I  was  granted 
immediate  admittance.  The  prince  was  rich, 
and  his  house  was  furnished  with  Oriental 
magnificence;  while  I  stood  waiting  in  one  of 
the  anterooms,  I  had  leisure  to  examine  my 
surroundings,  and  notice  the  splendid  hangings 
and  luxurious  furniture.  I  had  always  observed 
that  he  was  more  European  in  his  habits  and 
manners  than  the  rest  of  the  nobles  about  the 
court,  and  I  saw  here,  in  his  house,  the  con- 
junction of  Western  civilization  and  Eastern 
splendor.  The  doors  were  open,  and  where  I 
stood,  I  could  look  through  a  suite  of  apart- 


154  ON   THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ments  glittering  with  silver  and  gold,  hung 
with  the  richest  silks,  and  ornamented  with 
marble  statuary ;  it  was  a  home  worthy  a  grand 
seigneur.  I  suspected  that  he  was  a  man  of 
unlimited  ambition,  and  I  could  but  admire  the 
shrewdness  which  had  enabled  him  to  gain  an 
ascendency  over  the  mind  of  the  most  brilliant 
member  of  the  imperial  family,  for  I  never 
for  a  moment  dreamed  that  Galitsyn  recipro- 
cated Sophia's  affection;  but  for  political 
reasons,  he  probably  feigned  a  devotion  which 
he  did  not  feel;  such  is  the  misfortune  of 
princesses.  Looking  back  now  upon  that  day, 
I  see  how  little  any  of  us  reckoned  on  the  future 
of  the  boy  czar,  —  Peter  Alexeivitch,  whose  hold 
upon  the  scepter  seemed  so  slight,  yet  whose 
iron  hand  would  one  day  mold  and  weld  the 
disintegrated  empire  into  a  great  state,  and 
sway  the  destiny  of  Russia.  I  scarcely  heeded 
then  the  shrewd  Von  Gaden's  estimate  of  the 
young  Tartar;  the  Jew  was  the  only  one  who 
recognized  the  star  that  was  rising  out  of  that 
sea  of  intrigue  and  misrule. 

I  waited,  possibly,  half  an  hour,  before  one 
of  the  prince's  gentlemen  came  to  conduct  me 
into  his  presence,  for  Galitsyn  hedged  himself 
in  with  no  little  ceremony.  I  followed  the 
usher  into  a  long  and  splendid  salon,  hung  with 


PRINCE  BASIL   GALITSYN.  155 

the  richest  tapestry ;  at  the  farther  end  was  a 
writing-table,  at  which  sat  Prince  Galitsyn, 
conversing  earnestly  with  a  man  who  wore  the 
uniform  of  the  Streltsi;  as  I  approached  I 
recognized  with  astonishment  my  acquaintance, 
Peter  Lykof.  A  pile  of  papers  lay  on  the  table 
before  Galitsyn,  who  was  so  intent  upon  them 
that  he  did  not  notice  the  usher  who  preceded 
me  to  announce  my  entrance.  Lykof  looking 
around  greeted  me  with  an  easy  assurance  of 
manner  that  I  had  always  observed  about  him ; 
and  Galitsyn,  looking  up  at  this  moment,  thrust 
his  papers  aside,  and  saluted  me  with  courtesy. 

The  prince  was  an  extremely  handsome  man, 
and  had  a  grace  of  manner  which  made  him  the 
most  successful  of  the  Russian  diplomats,  and 
withal,  he  had  the  gallant  and  straightforward 
bearing  of  the  soldier  that  he  really  was.  I 
signified  at  once  that  my  business  was  for  his 
private  ear,  and  Lykof,  taking  the  hint,  pre- 
pared to  withdraw.  To  my  surprise,  Galitsyn 
held  out  his  hand  to  him  warmly,  as  if  bidding 
adieu  to  an  equal. 

"I  have  to  thank  you,  prince,"  Lykof  said 
easily,  "for  your  patient  hearing  of  my  com- 
plaint. I  have  waited  long,  but  at  last  I  may 
hope  for  justice." 

"It  cannot  fail  you  in  so  righteous  a  cause," 


156  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

replied  the  prince  at  once;  "the  czarevna  prob- 
ably knows  much  of  the  case  already,  and  you 
may  always  look  for  justice  at  her  hands." 

I  made  a  mental  note  of  this,  and  hoped  that 
the  czarevna's  forbearance  was  equal  to  her  jus- 
tice; but  something  in  her  small  eyes  had 
warned  me  that  her  ideas  on  this  point  might 
be  a  little  crude  and  simple.  However,  Lykof 
did  not  seem  troubled  with  my  apprehensions, 
probably  having  an  easier  conscience,  and  he 
parted  from  Galitsyn  with  the  utmost  cordial- 
ity, saluting  me  as  he  passed  with  a  dignity 
worthy  a  higher  rank. 

When  I  was  alone  with  the  prince,  I  imme- 
diately presented  my  packet,  briefly  stating  my 
unfortunate  experience  and  the  difficulty  I  had 
encountered  in  fulfilling  the  czarevna's  mission. 
Galitsyn  listened  attentively,  meanwhile  turn- 
ing the  packet  over  and  over  in  his  hands,  his 
keen  glance  shifting  from  it  to  my  face  and  back 
again.  When  I  had  concluded,  he  broke  the 
seals,  glanced  hastily  at  the  contents,  and  then, 
laying  it  on  the  table  before  him,  regarded  me 
with  an  expression  which  I  could  not  fathom. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"he  said  slowly,  "you  have 
done  well.  Her  Imperial  Highness  will  not 
forget  so  distinguished  a  service.  If  this 
packet  had  reached  the  hands  of  an  enemy,"  — 


PRINCE  BASIL    GALITSYN.  157 

he  paused  as  if  to  give  weight  to  his  words,  — 
"  I  cannot  measure  the  results.  It  would  be 
unworthy  of  me  to  dissemble  with  you,  M. 
de  Brousson;  it  would  have  ruined  the 
Miloslavskys. " 

I  had  divined  the  importance  of  my  errand, 
and  was  amused  at  the  prince's  candor  in  com- 
parison with  Sophia's  caution.  He  made  me 
repeat  to  him  again  the  history  of  my  adven- 
ture. I  had  told  him  frankly  every  particular, 
only  omitting  all  mention  of  Zena'ide,  and 
making  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  my  sole  deliv- 
erer. He  seemed  especially  angered  against 
Ramodanofsky,  not  having  apparently  suspected 
him  of  being  so  deeply  committed  to  the 
scheme  to  defeat  Sophia's  intrigues. 

"It  is  strange,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  "how 
one  thing  leads  to  another.  This  boyar  has  an 
unsavory  reputation,  it  appears." 

It  flashed  into  my  mind  to  tell  him  Von 
Gaden's  story;  but  remembering  that  the  lat- 
ter's  interests  were  all  with  the  Naryshkins,  I 
forbore.  Instead  of  speaking  of  the  Ramodan- 
ofskys,  I  expressed  my  satisfaction  at  having 
been  able  to  fulfill  my  mission  at  all,  and  my 
fears  that  it  was  too  late  to  be  a  successful  exe- 
cution of  my  trust.  Galitsyn's  reply  reassured 
me  on  one  point  at  least. 


158  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"In  one  respect  it  is  too  late,"  he  said,  "in 
that,  the  Naryshkins  overreached  themselves. 
If  anything  could  have  prevented  this  scourging 
to-day  —  Ah,  well,  what  odds !  But  it  is  just 
in  time,  since  you  saved  it  from  evil  hands." 

I  was  not  a  little  shocked  at  the  thought  of 
the  horrid  consequences  that  were  perhaps  in- 
volved in  the  delay  of  that  little  packet ;  Gal- 
itsyn,  however,  apparently  dismissed  it  from 
his  thoughts  with  perfect  ease. 

"  You  have  heard  the  news,  M.  le  Vicomte? " 
he  said  lightly;  "the  ex-Chancellor  Matveief 
has  returned. " 

I  was  startled  at  his  careless  announcement 
of  this  arrival,  as  I  knew  that  the  czarina's 
former  guardian  was  a  power  even  with  the 
Streltsi,  and  fancied  that  Galitsyn  must  feel 
firm  ground  under  his  own  feet,  or  he  would  not 
have  spoken  of  it  so  lightly. 

"I  knew  that  the  ex-chancellor  was  at  his 
country-place,"  I  said,  as  easily  as  I  could,  for 
I  had  no  desire  to  betray  my  surprise,  "but  I 
had  not  heard  of  his  arrival  in  this  city." 

"Your  head  was  probably  tied  up  in  one  of 
Ramodanof sky's  rugs  at  the  time,"  the  prince 
replied  with  a  smile;  "but  it  is  a  fact  that 
Matveief  is  here,  to  assume,  I  suppose,  the  reins 
of  government." 


PRINCE  BASIL  GALITSYN.       159 

I  looked  at  him  inquiringly,  but  could  not 
read  his  inscrutable  and  smiling  face,  therefore 
I  fell  back  on  a  safe  reply. 

"All  this  is  news  to  me,  your  excellency,"  I 
said.  "  I  was  probably,  as  you  say,  muffled  in 
one  of  Ram  odan  of  sky's  rugs." 

"  Well,  as  long  as  you  escape  his  steward  as 
happily  as  our  friend  did,  all  will  be  well," 
Galitsyn  replied  serenely;  and  I  saw  at  once 
that  Lykof  had  given  him  a  full  account  of  his 
treatment  at  the  hands  of  Polotsky. 

"I  am  at  a  loss,"  I  remarked,  "to  understand 
the  attack  upon  Peter  Lykof. " 

The  prince  laughed.  "  There  are  many  prob- 
lems in  this  world,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said; 
"  but  you  will  find  Peter  Lykof  a  very  worthy 
man." 

I  determined  to  throw  out  a  hint  that  I  sus- 
pected that  Lykof  was  concealing  his  true 
identity. 

"The  man  interests  me  chiefly,"  I  said,  "be- 
cause he  seems  to  be  of  more  importance  than 
he  claims." 

Galitsyn  looked  at  me  thoughtfully,  as  if 
making  up  his  mind  whether  he  could  fully 
trust  me,  and  after  a  moment,  determining 
upon  reserve. 

"You   have    approached    the   truth,    M.    de 


160  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

Brousson,"  he  said  calmly;  "but  it  is  not 
worth  while  to  fathom  it  as  yet.  Lykof  is  a 
man  who  can  keep  a  secret  so  well  that  I 
marvel  that  you  have  formed  so  accurate  a 
conclusion." 

"  Perhaps  he  has  been  more  careless  with  me 
than  usual,"  I  replied,  satisfied  that  there  was 
a  good  deal  behind  Galitsyn's  reserve,  and  in 
spite  of  myself  feeling  a  keen  interest. 

"  Like  the  Czarevna  Sophia,  he  has  probably 
recognized  your  honor,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  re- 
plied the  prince,  graciously,  fencing  as  easily 
as  usual. 

I  had  told  him  of  Homyak's  villainy,  and 
now,  before  taking  my  leave,  recalled  it  to  his 
mind. 

"The  rogue  deserves  punishment  richly,"  I 
said  angrily,  recalling  my  sensations  of  suffo- 
cation. 

"Yes,  such  vermin  are  best  exterminated," 
Galitsyn  replied;  "but  he  will  serve  a  purpose 
yet,  perhaps.  It  is  always  my  policy  to  let 
such  knaves  run,  -not  only  their  own  heads,  but 
a  few  others  into  the  noose  before  strangling 
them." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

MADEMOISELLE   EUDOXIE'S   WINDOW. 

AFTER  leaving  Galitsyn's  palace,  I  returned 
at  once  to  my  own  quarters,  and  was  glad  to 
find  that  Pierrot  had  not  neglected  my  instruc- 
tions, and  had  a  comfortable  meal  spread.  I 
had  been  through  a  rough  experience,  and  was 
well  pleased  to  rest  a  little,  with  a  feeling  of 
satisfaction  at  the  safe  execution  of  my  mis- 
sion. I  was  well  rid  of  the  packet,  and  hoped 
too  to  be  rid  of  the  consequences.  I  saw  that 
Pierrot  was  far  less  sanguine  than  I,  for  he 
moved  about  the  table  as  if  waiting  on  a  corpse, 
his  lugubrious  countenance  both  amusing  and 
annoying  me.  However,  the  evening  passed 
without  any  event,  and  I  went  early  to  rest, 
feeling  the  effect  of  the  rough  handling  of  the 
previous  night,  for  I  was  not  a  little  sore  and 
stiff. 

The  seven  days  which  ensued  were  disgust- 
ing to  every  decent  man.  The  pravezh  con- 
tinued, and  officer  after  officer  was  publicly 


1 62  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

scourged  before  being  permitted  to  retire  in 
disgrace  to  his  country-place.  It  was  the 
revolting  spectacle  of  a  weak  and  tottering 
government  unable  to  control  its  own  soldiers, 
and  swayed  too  by  every  fiendish  impulse  of 
the  mob.  How  long  this  state  of  things  could 
continue  seemed  an  open  question,  and  among 
the  more  conservative  there  was  fear  that 
Sophia  would  never  be  able  to  handle  the 
spirit  of  evil  that  her  intrigues  had  helped  to 
set  free,  for  it  was  no  secret  that  the  czarevna 
was  working  on  the  feelings  of  the  ignorant  sol- 
diers, and  upon  the  populace. 

On  every  hand  there  were  rumors  that  Sophia 
feared  the  treachery  of  the  Naryshkins,  and 
believed  that  Peter's  uncle,  Ivan  Naryshkin, 
was  himself  aiming  at  the  throne.  But  Von 
Gaden,  in  his  private  talks  with  me,  scoffed  at 
the  idea;  he  thought  the  czarevna  far  too  shrewd 
to  dream  of  such  absurdities,  and  that  she  was 
merely  circulating  these  canards  for  the  purpose 
of  inflaming  the  ignorant  and  seditious.  I  was 
myself  confronted  with  a  new  situation,  for 
since  the  affair  of  the  packet,  I  had  noticed  a 
decided  change  at  the  palace,  and  the  Czarina 
Natalia,  on  one  occasion,  treated  me  with 
marked  coldness.  Therefore,  as  my  lot  seemed 
cast  with  the  Miloslavskys,  I  could  no  longer 


MADEMOISELLE  EUDOXIE'S   WINDOW.    163 

pose  as  an  indifferent  spectator,  but  watched 
the  moves  at  court  with  the  interest  of  one  of 
the  players  at  dice;  and  in  those  few  days  be- 
fore the  25th  of  May,  1682,  it  was  a  desperate 
game,  desperately  played.  Preparations  were 
in  progress  for  the  coronation  of  Peter  Alexei- 
vitch,  and  the  whole  strength  of  the  aristocratic 
party  was  rallying  to  his  support;  some  of  the 
most  honorable  names  in  Russia  were  reckoned 
among  his  immediate  adherents;  yet  there  was 
no  master  hand  to  grip  the  helm  of  state,  and 
arrayed  against  them  was  a  clever  woman, 
seconded  by  Basil  Galitsyn  and  Ivan  Miloslav- 
sky,  a  strong  trio,  two  of  them  destined  to  rule 
Russia  for  seven  years. 

But  in  the  midst  of  this  public  excitement, 
came  a  call  upon  me  that  turned  my  mind  from 
such  intrigues  and  concentrated  it  upon  an 
effort  to  secure  my  own  happiness.  Ever  since 
my  first  agreement  with  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie, 
I  had  persistently  watched  Ramodanofsky's 
residence,  that  no  ill  might  come  to  Z6nai'de 
without  a  warning  to  me.  I  had  been  at  the 
Kremlin  all  day,  and  it  was  in  the  dusk  of 
evening  that  T  made  my  pilgrimage  past  the 
gloomy  house,  and  as  I  approached,  it  struck 
me  as  more  than  usually  forbidding  in  its 
aspect;  either  it  was  too  early  for  lights,  or 


1 64  Off  THE  RED  STAIRCASE, 

they  were  not  near  the  windows,  and  the  effect 
was  somber  in  the  extreme.  The  gates  of  the 
courtyard  were  closed,  and  there  was  no  sign  of 
life.  I  passed  around  the  front  of  the  house 
and  down  the  lane  wiiich  had  been  the  scene 
of  Michael's  attack  upon  me.  This  lane  con- 
tinued around  the  back  of  the  house,  which  was 
flanked  by  the  other  wing,  where  Mademoiselle 
Eudoxie's  room  commanded  a  part  of  the  lane 
from  one  small  window ;  and  it  was  here  that 
she  had  agreed  to  place  a  signal  in  the  hour  of 
need.  I  had  made  the  pilgrimage  many  after- 
noons without  result,  but  as  soon  as  I  turned 
the  corner  of  the  wall  that  evening,  I  saw  a 
white  handkerchief  fluttering  on  the  window 
sill.  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie's  signal!  For  a 
moment  I  was  taken  by  surprise,  as  we  always 
are  when  we  discover  anything  that  we  have 
looked  for  assiduously  but  without  success  day 
after  day ;  so  it  was  that  I  was  not  only  aston- 
ished but  alarmed  at  the  sight  of  the  signal,  and 
was  not  slow  to  conjecture  the  danger  which 
threatened  Zenai'de.  Now,  in  the  hour  of  the 
coronation  of  the  young  czar  and  the  return  of 
Matveief,  the  Naryshkins  were  endeavoring  to 
strengthen  their  position  among  the  boyars,  and 
this  alliance  would  be  pushed  forward  by  Ramo- 
danofsky,  knowing  as  he  did  that  after  his 


MADEMOISELLE  EUDOXIE'S   WINDOW.     165 

action  in  regard  to  Sophia's  packet,  he  could 
hope  for  nothing  from  the  Miloslavskys;  more- 
over, there  was,  I  knew,  an  undercurrent  in 
this  affair  too  deep  even  for  my  plummet  line. 

I  walked  down  the  lane  and  returned,  observ- 
ing the  window  in  hopes  of  discovering  made- 
moiselle on  the  watch  for  me;  but  all  was  quiet. 
Meanwhile,  I  had  been  reflecting  upon  the 
best  course  to  pursue.  It  would  be  practically 
impossible  for  me  to  see  mademoiselle  until 
after  dark,  for  I  could  not  now  approach  the 
house  without  being  seen,  and  there,  too,  was 
the  difficulty  of  the  closed  gates.  In  the  short 
twilight  which  ensued,  I  had  time  to  collect  my 
thoughts,  and  be  in  a  measure  prepared  for  the 
emergency.  I  reflected  that,  single  handed,  I 
could  do  little  in  case  there  was  need  for  imme- 
diate action,  and  so,  reluctant  as  I  was  to  lose 
sight  of  the  house,  I  returned  to  my  own  quar- 
ters and  ordered  Pierrot  to  bring  a  carriage, 
and  wait  at  the  end  of  the  lane  in  case  I  should 
require  either  the  vehicle  or  his  services.  I 
saw  that  he  had  no  stomach  for  the  errand,  re- 
membering too  vividly  his  experience  of  the 
previous  week;  but  he  did  not  venture  to  offer 
any  remonstrance,  and  in  less  than  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  after  my  return  to  my  post,  he  arrived 
at  the  entrance  to  the  lane  with  the  carriage. 


1 66  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

The  driver  was  directed  to  wait  a  signal  where 
he  was ;  but  I  stationed  Pierrot  where  he  could 
watch  the  gates,  which  had  been  opened  a  few 
moments  before  to  admit  a  guest.  There  were 
lights  now  in  the  front  of  the  house,  and  choos- 
ing my  opportunity,  I  slipped  into  the  courtyard 
unobserved  and  passed  around  towards  the 
wing.  Here  I  was  confronted  with  a  darkness 
that  alarmed  me;  only  one  light  showed,  and 
that  was  in  the  third  window  from  the  main 
building,  where  I  had  first  seen  Zenaide.  I 
went  directly  to  the  postern  and  tried  it;  but  it 
was  locked,  and  I  was  not  a  little  nonplussed. 
I  dared  not  knock,  for  I  could  not  be  sure  what 
danger  threatened  the  women,  and  who  would 
answer  my  summons.  Stepping  back  from  the 
door,  I  looked  up  again  at  the  dark  and  quiet 
house,  and  saw  the  light  shining  in  the  window 
above  my  head.  Listening  intently,  I  satisfied 
myself  that  all  the  noise  in  the  house  came  from 
the  other  side  of  the  main  building;  then,  I 
whistled  softly  two  bars  from  a  love-song  that 
I  remembered  having  heard  Mademoiselle  Eu- 
doxie  sing  in  the  old  days  at  the  Tour  de  Brous- 
son.  For  a  moment  there  was  no  reply,  and  I 
began  to  despair  of  attracting  their  notice  with- 
out alarming  the  household ;  then  I  saw  a  slen- 
der figure  outlined  against  the  light  within.  I 


MADEMOISELLE  EUDOXIE 'S    WINDOW.    1 67 

stepped  into  the  middle  of  the  court  and  waved 
my  hand  over  my  head.  Zenaide  either  recog- 
nized me  or  divined  who  it  was,  and  called 
Mademoiselle  Eudoxie,  for  I  saw  the  unmis- 
takable outline  of  the  old  maid's  gaunt  figure 
behind  her.  I  whistled  again,  very  low,  another 
bar  from  the  same  song,  and  was  rewarded  by 
seeing  mademoiselle  leave  the  window  quickly, 
to  go,  as  I  knew,  to  the  postern.  She  reached 
it  almost  as  quickly  as  I  did,  and  admitted  me 
in  silence,  after  first  assuring  herself  that 
there  had  been  no  mistake.  She  carried  a  light 
in  her  hand,  and  fastening  the  door  behind  me, 
put  her  finger  on  her  lip,  and  then  signed  to 
me  to  follow  her.  Stepping  very  cautiously, 
she  preceded  me  up  the  stairs  into  the  room 
where  I  had  first  surprised  them.  Zenaide  was 
still  standing  by  the  window,  and  at  my 
entrance,  took  a  few  steps  forward,  and  greeted 
me  with  an  air  of  some  reserve.  I  saw  that  she 
was  very  pale,  and  her  eyes  were  strangely 
brilliant.  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  closed  the 
door,  and  bolting  it  with  the  manner  of  a  con- 
spirator, set  her  light  down  beside  the  one  on 
the  table.  Zena'fde  made  a  movement  as  if  to 
leave  the  room ;  but  mademoiselle  looked  at  her 
so  reproachfully  that  she  paused  and  stood 
irresolute.  I  broke  the  ice  at  once. 


1 68  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"I  saw  the  signal,  mademoiselle,"  I  said, 
"and  responded  immediately.  You  are  in 
trouble  ? " 

"The  greatest!"  ejaculated  mademoiselle, 
clasping  her  hands  and  looking  at  Z6na'ide. 
"  The  worst  has  happened !  " 

"  M.  de  Brousson  does  not  understand  you, 
mademoiselle,"  Zdnai'de  said  gently;  and  then 
she  turned  to  me,  the  color  rising  on  her  cheeks 
until  she  was  no  longer  pale  but  sweetly  con- 
fused. "The  worst,  M.  le  Vicomte,  means 
simply  that  my  uncle  is  determined  to  compel 
me  to  marry  Viatscheslav  Naryshkin  to-morrow 
morning." 

"And  she  says  that  she  will  kill  herself 
rather  than  marry  a  man  whom  she  does  not 
love!"  put  in  mademoiselle,  tearfully. 

My  eyes  sought  Zenai'de's,  and  hers  fell,  the 
color  sweeping  up  to  her  fair  hair.  In  a 
moment  I  felt  that  the  room  was  transformed, 
and  no  longer  considered  either  the  difficulty 
or  the  peril  of  the  situation;  I  was  moved  out 
of  myself.  We  were  both  so  silent  that  made- 
moiselle stood  looking  from  one  to  the  other, 
with  a  growing  terror  on  her  thin  features ;  and 
it  seemed  to  me  that  those  ecstatic  little  curls 
of  hers  danced  in  sympathy  with  her  affrighted 
heart-beats. 


MADEMOISELLE  EUDOXIE'S   WINDOW.    169 

"What  can  we  do?"  she  exclaimed  tremu- 
lously. 

"  If  Mademoiselle  Ramodanofsky  is  willing 
to  be  guided  by  my  counsel,  I  think  I  can  sug- 
gest a  way  to  evade  this  trouble,"  I  said,  with  a 
little  hesitation,  trying  quickly  to  decide  on  the 
wiser  of  two  courses. 

Zenaide,  having  recovered  her  composure, 
turned  to  me  with  something  of  her  natural 
manner. 

"  I  am  in  too  great  straits  to  refuse  any  one's 
advice,  monsieur,"  she  said  gently;  "my  uncle 
is  an  inflexible  man,  and  I  can  expect  no  mercy 
at  his  hands  —  and  surely  none  from  Narysh- 
kin,"  she  added  with  a  gesture  of  contempt. 

"Tell  us  what  to  do!  "  cried  mademoiselle, 
hysterically,  before  I  could  reply;  the  poor  soul 
was  beside  herself  with  terror. 

"  There  are  two  courses  open  to  you,  Made- 
moiselle Ramodanofsky,"  I  said  at  once;  "and 
in  both  cases  you  must  accept  my  escort  from 
this  house  to-night." 

I  saw  Z6nai"de's  start  and  her  questioning 
glance  at  mademoiselle,  who  was  incapable  of 
advising  or  guiding  any  one  then,  and  who 
looked  to  me  with  implicit  confidence. 

"I  have  reason  to  think,  mademoiselle,"  I 
continued,  addressing  Zenaide,  "that  the 


I/O  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

Czarevna  Sophia  could,  and  would,  protect  you 
against  your  uncle's  violence.  There  is  also 
another  way  of  securing  your  liberty,  but  that 
would  take  a  longer  time  to  accomplish  "  —  I 
was  thinking  of  a  full  exposure  of  Vladimir's 
villainy.  "  One  course  would  be  to  permit  me 
to  conduct  you  and  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie 
directly  to  the  Kremlin,  and  to  rely  on  the 
czarevna's  ability  to  defend  you.  The  other 
course,  which  seems  easier  and  safer  as  a  first 
move,  is  to  go  secretly  to  Dr.  von  Gaden's 
house.  His  wife  will'  receive  you,  and  I  am 
sure  that  the  doctor  can  and  will  conceal  your 
presence  there  for  a  few  days,  until  we  find 
means  to  evade  your  uncle's  determination." 

"  To  what  end,  M.  le  Vicomte  ? "  asked 
Zenaide,  quietly,  a  strangely  resolute  expres- 
sion about  her  mouth. 

I  was  embarrassed;  it  was  no  part  of  my 
intention  to  reveal  my  scheme  for  Ramodanof- 
sky's  defeat,  but  I  recognized  the  significance 
of  her  question;  she  had  seen  at  a  glance  that 
all  that  was  to  be  gained  was  a  possible  delay. 
It  was  not  usual  in  Russia  to  oppose  the  guar- 
dian's wishes  in  regard  to  the  marriage  of  his 
charge,  and  I  knew  that  she  considered  that 
the  situation  was  desperate. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  firmly,  meeting  her 


MADEMOISELLE  EUDOXIE'S   WINDOW.    I /I 

eyes  with  resolution,  "there  is  a  matter  of 
which  I  cannot  speak,  but  which  bears  immedi- 
ately upon  the  case,  and  leads  me  to  believe  that 
your  uncle  dare  not  do  violence  to  your  inclina- 
tions in  the  face  of  the  czarevna's  opposition, 
and  he  has  deeply  offended  Sophia  by  his  con- 
nection with  this  business  of  the  packet.  Trust 
me,  mademoiselle,  to  unravel  the  tangled  skein. 
At  least,  any  delay  would  be  better  than  mar- 
riage to-morrow  with  Viatscheslav ! " 

She  threw  back  her  head  with  a  motion  of 
proud  disdain. 

"M.  de  Brousson,"  she  said  slowly,  "I  will 
never  marry  that  man  ! " 

Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  gave  way  to  her  grief 
and  sobbed  behind  her  handkerchief. 

"She  will  kill  herself!  "she  moaned;  "that 
is  the  way  she  goes  on ! " 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  quietly,  looking  at 
Zenalde,  "a  carriage  is  waiting  in  the  lane; 
we  have  not  much  time  to  lose.  I  pray  you  get 
your  cloak,  and  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  will 
accompany  us  to  Dr.  von  Gaden's  house." 

"Do  come,  dear  Zenalde,"  pleaded  her  com- 
panion, looking  up  over  the  top  of  her  handker- 
chief, her  eyes  red  and  swollen. 

"I  would  go  gladly  enough,  Mademoiselle 
Eudoxie,"  Z&iai'de  replied  frankly,  "if  I  knew 


1/2  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

that  I  should  gain  my  liberty  at  last,  and  if  I 
did  not  fear  being  a  most  unwelcome  and  bur- 
densome guest  in  the  good  doctor's  house." 

"In  that  matter  I  can  relieve  your  mind, 
mademoiselle,"  I  exclaimed  hastily.  "Dr. 
von  Gaden  has  the  friendliest  regard  for  you, 
and  I  have  reason  to  know  that  he  will  consider 
it  a  privilege  to  shelter  you  in  this  hour  of 
need." 

Zenaide  looked  at  me  searchingly.  "You  are 
very  reassuring,  M.  de  Brousson, "  she  said 
quietly,  "  and  I  see  that  there  is  some  reason 
behind  all  this  that  causes  your  confidence; 
but  you  must  forgive  my  hesitation.  I  am 
indeed  in  sore  straits;  but  I  know  my  uncle 
to  be  a  relentless  man,  and  I  would  not  will- 
ingly bring  down  his  wrath  upon  this  Jewish 
physician,  from  whom  I  have  received  nothing 
but  good  offices.  The  Czar  Peter  will  soon  be 
crowned,  and  the  Naryshkins  once  in  power,  it 
will  be  ruin  to  have  tried  to  help  me  against 
one  of  that  family." 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  gently,  "I  have  the 
greatest  respect  for  your  scruples ;  but,  believe 
me,  they  are  without  serious  foundation.  If 
the  Naryshkins  could  hold  the  balance  of  power, 
there  would  have  been  nopravezk.  And,  in  any 
case,  will  you  risk  nothing  for  your  liberty?  " 


MADEMOISELLE  EUDOXIE'S    WINDOW.    173 

She  looked  up,  and  I  saw  the  tears  shining 
in  her  blue  eyes. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  exclaimed  passion- 
ately, "  I  would  risk  life  itself,  but  —  I  do  not 
wish  to  peril  yours ! " 

I  took  her  hand  and  pressed  it  to  my  lips. 
Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  was  crying  with  much 
noise  by  the  table. 

"Mademoiselle  Ramodanofsky, "  I  said 
firmly,  "  I  would  not  leave  you  in  this  extrem- 
ity; and  if  I  remain  here  —  "  I  looked  at  her 
and  paused. 

"Mademoiselle,"  Z6naide  said,  with  a  break 
in  her  voice,  "are  our  cloaks  here?  We  must 
go!" 

Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  ceased  sobbing  and 
immediately  produced  the  cloaks.  I  helped 
her  to  muffle  Zena'fde  and  herself,  and  then, 
without  any  light,  we  went  out,  and  fastening 
the  door  of  the  room  on  the  outside,  took  the 
key  with  us,  to  delay  as  long  as  possible  the 
discovery  of  their  flight ;  then  went  groping  our 
way  down  the  narrow  steps,  starting  at  every 
creak  of  the  stairs,  like  the  conspirators  that 
we  were. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE   FLIGHT. 

WHILE  the  women  were  creeping  down  ahead 
of  me,  I  reflected  upon  the  risks  of  our  situa- 
tion, and  speculated  a  little  upon  the  chances 
of  Ramodanof sky's  having  neglected  to  set  a 
watch  upon  his  niece.  All  these  thoughts 
crowded  into  my  mind,  as  thoughts  always  do, 
in  such  a  crisis.  We  had  the  long  court  to 
cross  before  we  could  be  out  of  range  of  a 
dozen  windows.  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  seemed 
nerved  by  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  and 
preceded  us  with  a  firm  step,  Zena'fde's  slen- 
der cloaked  figure  following  her,  and  I  so  close 
behind  that  her  garments  brushed  against  me 
as  we  went.  We  got  down  the  stairs  safe, 
and  across  the  anterooms,  and  mademoiselle 
had  unfastened  the  postern,  before  a  noise  to 
the  left  startled  us  and  hastened  her  move- 
ments. She  and  Zenalde  were  passing  out 
when  a  door  opposite  was  thrown  open  and  a 
man  stood  on  the  threshold,  holding  a  light  in 


THE  FLIGHT.  175 

his  hand.  In  the  first  moment,  the  sudden 
illumination  in  the  dark  hall  dazzling  our  eyes, 
I  do  not  think  that  he  saw  me  any  more  dis- 
tinctly than  I  saw  him.  I  was  carrying  my 
sheathed  sword  in  my  hand,  and  the  inspiration 
coming  to  me  with  the  peril,  I  struck  the  light 
from  his  hand,  and  it  sputtered  and  went  out  on 
the  floor;  but  in  the  instant  before  extinction  it 
flared  up,  and  I  recognized  the  steward  Polot- 
sky,  and  feared  that  he  recognized  me.  The 
next  moment  I  was  outside,  and  had  closed  the 
door  behind  me.  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie,  with 
a  quickness  of  thought  that  I  had  not  given  her 
credit  for,  had  removed  the  key  from  the  inside 
out,  and  turned  it  now  before  joining  our  hur- 
ried flight  across  the  court.  I  was  regretting 
all  the  while  that  I  had  not  struck  Polotsky 
down,  but  my  hand  had  been  stayed  by  fear  of 
an  outcry,  which  would  have  roused  the  house. 

Half  way  across  the  court,  Mademoiselle 
Eudoxie  halted  with  a  little  suppressed  cry, 
pointing  to  a  man  in  front  of  us.  It  was  too 
late  to  retreat  now,  and  Zenaide  evidently 
understood  this  as  well  as  I  did,  for  she  advanced 
calmly  towards  him,  taking  the  lead,  as  became 
her  position  in  the  house.  He  stood  aside  for 
her,  and  to  my  relief,  I  recognized  Pierrot. 
Seeing  me,  he  fell  into  line,  and  followed  us, 


176  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

greatly  to  mademoiselle's  discomfiture;  but 
there  was  no  time  for  explanation,  and  we 
passed  out  of  the  courtyard  without  further 
incident.  Pierrot,  running  ahead,  summoned 
the  carriage  with  two  low  whistles,  and  we 
helped  mademoiselle  and  Ze*nai'de  to  get  in,  I 
following  them,  while  Pierrot  rode  with  the 
coachman.  Once  fairly  off,  I  drew  a  sigh  of 
relief.  There  were,  at  least,  no  signs  of  pur- 
suit or  indeed  of  any  disturbance,  the  house 
maintaining  a  quiet  that  made  me  marvel  at 
Polotsky's  failure  to  give  the  alarm,  and  I 
began  to  wonder  a  little  if  he  was  not  the  best 
person  to  have  discovered  us;  but  mademoiselle 
quickly  dispelled  this  illusion  when  I  told  her 
who  had  opened  the  door  upon  us. 

"The  saints  defend  us!"  she  exclaimed. 
"  No  one  could  be  worse  except  the  boyar  him- 
self. Polotsky  is  a  devil !  " 

I  was  heartily  of  her  opinion,  but  had  the 
encouragement  of  feeling  that  we  had  so  far 
evaded  pursuit. 

Zena'fde  said  nothing;  I  could  discern  the 
outline  of  her  figure  opposite  me,  and  she 
seemed  to  have  sunk  back  into  her  corner  with 
an  entire  surrender  of  purpose,  letting  events 
shape  themselves.  We  were  driving  fast,  and 
the  distance  was  not  great. 


THE  FLIGHT.  177 

"  I  wish  you  had  killed  him  !  "  mademoiselle 
remarked,  becoming  suddenly  bloodthirsty, 
which  was  amusing;  for  immediately  a  vision 
of  her  mild,  frightened  face  arose. 

"I  would  have  killed  him  cheerfully,"  I  re- 
plied, "  if  I  had  not  feared  that  he  would  raise 
an  outcry,  and  so  make  your  escape  impossible. " 

"He  would  have  done  so;  he  is  a  great 
coward,"  said  Zenai'de,  quietly.  " Besides,"  she 
added  to  mademoiselle,  "you  would  not  have 
M.  le  Vicomte's  sword  stained  with  the  blood 
of  such  a  toad." 

"Dead  men  tell  no  tales,"  mademoiselle 
muttered  to  herself,  "and  I  have  always 
dreaded  that  man;  he  has  an  eye  like  a 
cat's." 

"  He  is  undoubtedly  an  accomplished  villain, 
for  my  uncle  reposes  great  confidence  in  him," 
remarked  Zenai'de,  with  a  bitter  little  laugh. 

"It  is  not  worth  while  considering  it  now," 
I  said,  to  reassure  them ;  "  we  undoubtedly 
evaded  his  vigilance  by  locking  the  door  upon 
him.  I  do  not  believe  that  he  reached  the 
other  part  of  the  house  before  we  were  safely 
out  of  the  court,  and  he  is  not  likely  to  fathom 
our  designs." 

"One  cannot  tell,"  murmured  mademoiselle. 
"I  sometimes  think  that  he  and  Ramodanofsky 


1/8  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

—  I  beg  your  pardon,  Ze"na'ide —  are  allied  with 
Satan,  it  seems  so  difficult  to  defeat  them." 

A  hundred  yards  from  Von  Gaden's  house 
the  carriage  stopped,  and  Pierrot  came  to  the 
door. 

"What  is  the  matter?  "  I  asked  sharply. 

"A  carriage  is  easily  tracked,  M.  le  Vicomte," 
he  said  hesitatingly,  "  and  I  thought  perhaps,  as 
a  precaution,  you  had  better  go  the  rest  of  the 
way  on  foot." 

He  spoke  in  French,  evidently  supposing 
that  both  women  were  Russians  and  would  not 
understand  him,  for  I  saw  his  start  of  surprise 
when  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  exclaimed,  in  her 
native  tongue,  — 

"He  is  right,  Monsieur  Philippe;  we  had 
better  get  out  here,  for  if  Polotsky  try  to 
track  us,  he  will  follow  the  carriage." 

I  saw  the  wisdom  of  the  suggestion,  and 
getting  out,  helped  them  to  alight.  Pierrot 
directed  the  coachman  to  return  by  a  circuitous 
route  to  my  quarters,  while  we  four  proceeded 
on  foot  to  Von  Gaden's  house.  I  was  half  in- 
clined to  doubt  the  necessity  for  the  precaution 
when  I  looked  back  and  saw  only  deserted 
streets.  I  walked  in  front  with  ZenaYde,  and 
Pierrot  escorted  mademoiselle,  who,  recogniz- 
ing him  as  a  fellow-countryman,  chatted  to  him 


THE  FLIGHT.  179 

as  they  went;  anything  French  was  welcome  to 
her.  For  a  little  way  Zenaide  and  I  were 
silent,  but  as  the  doctor's  house  was  near  at 
hand,  she  spoke. 

"M.  de  Brousson,"  she  said  in  a  low 
voice,  in  which  there  was  a  slight  tremor,  "  I 
have  no  words  in  which  to  thank  you.  My 
gratitude  is  equal  to  the  horror  from  which  I 
am  fleeing.  Alone,  mademoiselle  and  I  could 
have  accomplished  nothing;  we  did  not  even 
know  what  to  do.  To  you,  then,  monsieur,  I 
owe  a  liberty  which  is  more  precious  than  my 
life." 

I  was  deeply  moved,  and  words  rushed  to  my 
lips  which  I  dared  not  utter  at  that  time,  and 
in  her  hour  of  peril. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said,  as  quietly  as  I  could, 
"  it  is  my  happiness  to  have  served  you,  and  my 
hope  to  serve  you  yet  more  faithfully.  I  will 
spare  nothing  to  deliver  you  from  your  uncle, 
and  to  obtain  your  entire  freedom  from 
restraint. " 

"It  is  a  terrible  thing,  M.  de  Brousson," 
Ze"naifde  said  thoughtfully,  "to  be  persecuted 
by  one  of  your  own  family;  but  my  uncle 
has  never  had  any  sympathy  for  me.  I  am 
merely  a  card  in  his  hands,  to  be  played  when 
the  stakes  are  certain ;  he  has  never  considered 


180  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

me  as  a  human  being.  He  is  cruel,  and  I 
dread  the  consequences  to  you  of  these  kind 
offices." 

"Fear  nothing,  mademoiselle,"  I  responded 
cheerfully.  "I  know  also  something  of  your 
uncle,  and  fear  him  not  at  all." 

"You  are  brave,  monsieur,"  she  replied  with 
a  soft  little  laugh.  "As  a  rule  my  uncle  is  a 
terror  to  friends  and  foes.  Alas  !  I  believe  no 
one  is  his  friend  except  through  fear  or  favor; 
that  is  the  common  fate  of  such  men  as  he !  " 

"That  is  true,  mademoiselle,"  I  replied 
thoughtfully;  "but  it  is  also  true  that  to  a  man 
of  such  inflexible  will,  the  support  of  friendly 
sympathy  is  superfluous.  I  can  fancy  him 
treating  it  with  scorn.  He  would  rejoice  in 
ruling  by  the  force  of  his  own  determination, 
and  crushing  out  all  resistance." 

"Yes,"  she  said  quietly;  "he  would  crush 
out  life  itself  if  the  opposition  to  his  will  were 
obstinate.  I  believe  that  he  has  learned  to 
hate  me  since  he  has  found  that  I  will  not  yield 
to  his  authority  the  unquestioning  obedience 
of  a  child,  and  yet  he  has  never  tried  to  win  me 
to  submission  by  any  kindness  or  persuasion. 
He  is  a  man  of  iron." 

I  thought  of  her  persecuted  mother  and  her 
murdered  father,  and  had  no  words  with  which 


THE  FLIGHT.  l8l 

to  answer  her.  How  little  she  measured  the 
villainy  of  this  stern  man !  she  was  like  a  child 
trying  to  read  the  soul  of  a  rogue. 

We  had  reached  Von  Gaden's  house,  and 
the  doctor  himself  opened  the  door  in  response 
to  my  summons.  He  looked  not  a  little  sur- 
prised at  the  sight  of  the  two  women  with  me, 
but  admitted  us  with  his  usual  gentle  courtesy. 
We  entered,  leaving  Pierrot  on  the  doorstep  to 
watch  for  and  warn  us  of  possible  pursuit. 
Mademoiselle  and  he  remembered  each  other, 
for  he  had  been  at  the  chateau  while  she  was 
there,  and  it  was  amusing  to  see  the  mutual  joy 
at  the  discovery  of  some  one  who  belonged  to 
that  quiet  and  trustworthy  past,  for  they  both 
had  the  same  horror  of  their  present  environ- 
ment ;  and  she  seemed  to  feel  reassured  because 
this  old  retainer  watched  at  the  door.  The 
doctor  ushered  her  and  Ze"nai'de  into  a  private 
room,  and  then  I  asked  to  speak  to  him  alone, 
feeling  that  I  could  explain  matters  more 
clearly  out  of  the  hearing  of  the  two  most  con- 
cerned. I  was  for  going  straight  into  the 
doctor's  study,  but  to  my  surprise,  found  that 
already  occupied.  A  man  was  sitting  by  the 
table  and  rose  at  the  sight  of  me;  it  was  Peter 
Lykof,  but  the  doctor  drew  me  into  another 
room,  and  closing  the  door  with  his  back,  stood 


1 82  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

regarding  me  with  an  expression  of  inquiry  in 
his  eyes.  Now  that  I  had  brought  Zenai'de  to 
his  house,  I  realized  that  I  was  demanding  a 
good  deal  of  his  kindness,  and  exposing  him  to 
no  contemptible  danger.  I  was  therefore  not  a 
little  disturbed  at  the  unusual  brusquerie  of  his 
demeanor.  He  saw  my  momentary  embarrass- 
ment, and  his  manner  relaxed. 

"Well,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said  quietly,  "I 
see  that  your  errand  is  unusual,  but  we  gain 
nothing  by  delay.  To  what  am  I  indebted  for 
the  honor  of  this  visit  from  the  unknown  ladies 
yonder?  " 

I  looked  up  in  surprise;  it  had  not  occurred 
to  me  that  he  had  failed  to  recognize  them 
under  their  mufflings. 

"  It  is  Mademoiselle  Ramodanofsky  and  her 
demoiselle  de  compagnie"  I  said  at  once,  "come 
to  you  in  an  hour  of  great  distress,  and  at  my 
recommendation. " 

Von  Gaden  started  at  the  mention  of  her 
name,  and  was  looking  at  me  curiously. 

"This  is  strange,"  he  remarked  thoughtfully; 
"the  coincidences  of  this  life  are  marvelous  ! " 

"I  ventured  to  appeal  to  you  to  help  her,"  I 
went  on,  "because  you,  before  any  one,  knew 
of  the  villainy  of  her  uncle.  He  is  now  deter- 
mined to  force  this  young  girl  to  marry  that 


THE   FLIGHT.  183 

rogue,  Viatscheslav  Naryshkin,  to-morrow 
morning,  and  she  has  declared  that  she  will 
sooner  die.  In  this  extremity,  I  could  think  of 
but  two  avenues  of  escape  for  her:  one  was  a 
direct  appeal  to  the  Czarevna  Sophia;  the  other, 
temporary  concealment  in  your  house,  until 
influence  can  be  brought  to  bear  upon  Ramo- 
danofsky,  to  compel  him  to  surrender  his  pur- 
pose. I  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  czar- 
evna  will  aid  her  cheerfully." 

Von  Gaden  took  a  short  turn  across  the  room, 
evidently  much  excited. 

"  May  I  ask  you  a  question  that  must  seem 
impertinent,  M.  de  Brousson?  "  he  said  at  last. 
"  How  did  you  penetrate  the  fortress  of  a 
Russian  house  and  learn  these  secrets,  when 
Ramodanofsky  is,  I  know,  no  friend  of  yours  ?  " 

My  color  rose,  but  I  understood  the  Jew's 
amazement. 

"I  owe  my  success  to  my  own  temerity,"  I 
replied;  "the  confidence  is  from  my  sister's 
old  governess,  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie.  But  if 
they  cannot  safely  stay  here  under  your  wife's 
protection,  you  must  tell  me  at  once,  so  that 
we  can  go  straight  to  the  Kremlin. " 

"  Are  you  mad,  Brousson  ? "  exclaimed  Von 
Gaden,  hastily.  "Go  to  the  Kremlin  in  the 
midst  of  such  excitement !  Sophia  is  not  strong 


1 84  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

enough  to-day  to  protect  the  palace  from  the 
violence  of  the  mob  that  she  has  tried  to  excite 
to  mutiny  ever  since  the  Czar  Feodor's  funeral. 
Zenai'de  Feodorovna  is  welcome  to  the  shelter 
of  my  roof  as  long  as  I  have  one.  It  would  be 
madness  to  go  out  again  to-night.  Vladimir 
Ramodanofsky  will  search  well  for  his  victim, 
and  he  will  not  let  her  escape  so  easily  again. 
These  are  uncertain  times,  M.  le  Vicomte. 
To-day  it  looks  as  if  the  scale  were  turning  in 
the  favor  of  the  Naryshkins.  Matveief  is  hold- 
ing a  reception  at  his  house,  and  all  the  cour- 
tiers are  carrying  presents  to  him ;  who  can  tell 
whether  or  not  that  astute  old  chancellor  may 
not  stem  the  tide  of  popular  displeasure  and 
establish  his  former  ward's  son  firmly  upon  the 
throne?  In  which  case,"  added  Von  Gaden, 
snapping  his  fingers,  "  I  would  not  give  that  for 
Sophia's  influence  at  court." 

I  would  not  be  discouraged.  "I  differ  with 
you,"  I  said  at  once;  "I  do  not  believe  that 
forty  Matveiefs  could  turn  the  tide  at  this  late 
hour.  The  thunder  of  sedition  is  already  rum- 
bling over  yonder  in  the  quarters  of  the 
Streltsi,  and  I  have  seen  Basil  Galitsyn's  confi- 
dence ;  he  is  too  shrewd  a  man  to  plant  his  feet 
on  sand. " 

Von  Gaden  shook  his  head.     However,  his 


THE  FLIGHT.  185 

interests  were  with  the  Naryshkins,  and  it  was 
natural  for  him  to  overestimate  their  strength. 
At  least  I  was  assured  of  Zena'ide's  immediate 
safety;  and  after  a  little  consultation,  Von 
Gaden  went  to  his  wife,  and  she  received 
mademoiselle  and  Zenai'de,  carrying  them  away 
to  her  portion  of  the  house.  It  was  then  that 
Dr.  von  Gaden  puzzled  me  by  advising  me  to 
take  no  action  in  the  matter  for  the  present. 

"  Let  affairs  drift  with  the  tide  for  a  day  or 
so,"  he  said.  "There  is  scarcely  a  chance  of 
their  presence  here  being  discovered;  mean- 
while, the  crisis  is  approaching,  and  we  shall 
know  which  side  will  hold  the  balance  of  power. 
The  old  boyar  has  chosen  his  time  cleverly,  to 
force  Zenaide's  marriage  just  when  interference 
from  the  Kremlin  was  unlikely;  but  he  counted 
without  his  host, "  he  added  with  a  peculiar  smile, 
"and  she  has  shown  her  father's  spirit  in  her 
resistance.  I  always  felt  that  there  was  good 
mettle  in  her,  and  that  she  would  fight  when 
the  hour  came." 

I  rose  to  go.  "I  will  leave  Pierrot  here," 
I  said,  "as  an  additional  safeguard  in  case  of 
need." 

"It  is  unnecessary,"  the  doctor  replied;  "I 
have  a  sufficient  number  of  servants  to  watch 
over  the  household,  and  the  presence  of  your 


1 86  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

man  will  only  attract  notice,  and  mayhap  arouse 
suspicion.  Leave  Mademoiselle  Ze"naide  to  me, 
and  only  hold  yourself  in  readiness  for  any 
call." 

I  was  reluctant  enough  to  do  this,  and  yet 
recognized  the  wisdom  of  his  advice,  and  could 
not  ask  permission  to  stay  on  guard  myself, 
although  I  longed  to  do  so,  and  fancied  that 
Von  Gaden  had  already  divined  my  secret. 
Whether  that  was  the  case  or  not,  he  was  evi- 
dently anxious  to  get  me  out  of  the  house,  and 
I  was  compelled  to  submit  to  fate,  and  with- 
draw with  what  grace  I  could  command. 

As  I  went  out,  I  saw  Lykof  still  sitting  in 
the  doctor's  study,  and  wondered  a  little  at  his 
errand.  On  the  doorstep  I  found  Pierrot, 
faithful  to  his  duty.  He  reported  that  all  was 
quiet,  and  he  had  seen  nothing  to  arouse  any 
suspicion  that  we  had  been  traced  to  Von 
Gaden 's  house;  so  I  went  to  my  quarters  with  a 
comparatively  quiet  mind. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

THE  AUDIENCE-CHAMBER. 

THE  following  day  I  went  to  the  Kremlin, 
mainly  for  the  purpose  of  learning,  if  possible, 
the  result  of  Z6na"ide's  flight,  for  I  was  sure 
that  the  disappointment  of  Viatscheslav  Narysh- 
kin  would  soon  be  known. 

I  reached  the  palace  at  the  hour  when  the 
Czarina  Natalia  received  various  petitions,  and 
the  anterooms  of  the  audience-chamber  were 
crowded  with  courtiers  and  public  personages. 
The  etiquette  of  the  Russian  court  was  rigid, 
and  on  such  occasions  no  one  could  sit  in  the 
presence  of  the  sovereign;  and  it  was  not 
unusual  to  see  boyars  and  officials  go  out  into 
the  courtyard  to  sit  down  and  rest. 

As  I  entered  the  anteroom,  Prince  Basil 
Galitsyn  was  coming  out,  and  he  passed  me 
with  a  smile. 

"Good-morning  to  you,  squire  of  dames,"  he 
said  lightly,  waving  his  hand  to  me  as  he  passed 
on. 


1 88  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

I  was  puzzled,  not  only  by  the  remark,  but 
by  the  stir  that  my  entrance  made.  I  saw 
Homyak  dodging  away  amidst  the  crowd,  and 
there  was  a  little  hush  in  the  murmur  of  talk, 
and  more  than  one  stranger  craned  his  neck  to 
gaze  at  me  over  another's  shoulder.  Without 
heeding  this  unusual  demonstration,  I  crossed 
the  room  to  the  reception  hall,  where  two 
r hinds,  or  guards  of  honor,  in  white  satin  and 
silver  uniform,  stood  on  either  side  the  door, 
and  one  of  the  chamberlains  ushered  in  the 
visitors. 

The  Czarina  Natalia  was  seated  on  a  throne- 
like  chair  at  the  end  of  the  apartment,  and  the 
ex-Chancellor  Matveief  stood  at  her  right  hand. 
Her  robe  of  silver  brocade,  covered  with  white 
lace  and  trimmed  with  sables,  made  her  a  splen- 
did figure.  She  was  still  a  young  woman,  and 
as  I  looked  at  her  that  morning,  I  was  more 
than  usually  impressed  with  the  contrast  be- 
tween the  tall  and  graceful  form  of  Alexis* 
widow  and  her  short  and  ill-proportioned  step- 
daughter Sophia.  Natalia  was  handsome;  her 
fine  features  and  black  hair  were  striking,  and 
her  large  dark  eyes  had  a  fire  and  beauty  which 
suggested  the  attraction  that  had  won  the  heart 
of  Alexis  the  Most  Debonair.  Only  a  czar 
could  afford  to  marry  as  he  pleased ;  every  other 


THE  AUDIENCE-CHAMBER.  189 

sovereign  of  Europe  had  his  consort  selected 
for  reasons  of  state,  but  the  Autocrat  of  Russia 
could  wed  his  own  subject  and  make  her  an 
empress.  Matveief's  wife  was  a  Scotchwoman, 
and  had  introduced  the  freedom  of  western 
manners  into  the  household;  and  she  and  her 
husband's  ward,  Natalia  Naryshkin,  served  the 
vodka  and  caviare  when  Alexis  was  visiting  his 
chancellor,  thus  giving  the  czar  an  opportunity 
to  observe  the  young  girl.  A  short  time  after 
this  interesting  social  occasion,  the  daughter  of 
old  Kirill  Naryshkin  became  the  Czarina  and 
Grand  Duchess  Natalia  Kirilovna  of  all  Great 
and  Little  and  White  Russia.  At  the  death  of 
Alexis,  Natalia  as  the  dowager  czarina  was,  by 
virtue  of  the  old  Russian  law,  the  head  of  the 
imperial  family. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  ever  seen  the 
czarina's  former  guardian,  the  man  whose  influ- 
ence and  diplomacy  had  firmly  established  his 
ward  as  Alexis'  wife  in  the  teeth  of  as  bitter 
opposition  as  was  ever  met  by  a  bride  of 
Russia,  and  it  was  a  peculiarly  terrible  ordeal 
to  be  selected  as  the  imperial  bride.  The 
custom  was  time-honored  and  unique.  When 
a  czar  desired  a  spouse,  the  maidens  of  Moscow 
and  the  provinces  were  assembled,  summoned 
according  to  certain  restrictions  in  regard  to 


I9O  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

rank  and  beauty,  and  the  autocrat  made  his 
choice.  After  the  imperial  decision,  came  the 
hour  of  tribulation;  the  fortunate  (?)  candidate 
was  attacked  by  the  malice  and  envy  of  every 
faction  at  court,  and  more  than  one  imperial 
bride-elect  was  drugged  into  the  semblance  of 
illness,  one  having  her  hair  twisted  up  so 
tightly  by  her  affectionate  ladies-in-waiting  that 
she  fainted.  The  immediate  result  of  such 
accidents  was  the  charge  that  the  young  woman 
was  afflicted  with  an  incurable  disorder;  and  as 
it  was  regarded  in  the  light  of  treason  to  pre- 
sent such  a  candidate,  the  unfortunate  and  her 
family  were  sent  to  Siberia,  if  she  did  not  die 
suddenly,  as  did  the  Princess  Marie  Dolgoruky. 
So  it  may  be  seen  that  to  be  an  aspirant  for 
the  imperial  matrimonial  diadem  was  to  be  also 
a  candidate  for  exile,  imprisonment,  painful 
hair-dressing,  and  poison. 

Artemon  Sergheievitch  Matveief  was  now  an 
old  man  of  commanding  presence.  He  wore 
the  rich,  flowing  robe  of  a  boyar,  and  his  white 
hair  and  full  beard  added  a  dignity  to  a  coun- 
tenance at  once  astute  and  benevolent.  He 
had  tasted  the  stinging  humiliation  of  political 
defeat,  and  eaten  the  bitter  bread  of  exile  in 
the  province  of  Archangel;  he  had  been  par- 
doned by  the  Czar  Feodor,  and  was  on  his  way 


THE  AUDIENCE-CHAMBER.  191 

home  at  the  time  of  Feodor's  untimely  death ; 
but  it  remained  for  Natalia  to  summon  him,  in 
an  hour  of  great  difficulty  and  peril,  once  more 
to  grasp  the  helm  of  state.  Was  it  too  late  ? 
Alas !  for  him  that  question  was  to  be  too  cer- 
tainly answered  in  a  few  short  days,  on  that 
Red  Staircase  which  he  had  ascended  to-day  in 
the  joyful  emotion  of  reunion  with  his  kindred, 
and  the  exhilaration  of  a  return  of  political 
prestige  and  power,  sweeter  than  ever  to  a 
long  banished  statesman.  At  this  moment,  he 
was  conversing  earnestly  with  the  patriarch,  and 
a  group  of  nobles  stood  at  a  little  distance  wait- 
ing his  convenience.  The  czarina  was  speak- 
ing to  her  own  brother,  Ivan  Naryshkin. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  room,  I  saw 
Viatscheslav  and  Ramodanofsky,  and  in  the 
group  nearest  me  recognized,  to  my  surprise, 
one  of  the  opposing  faction,  Larion  Miloslavsky. 
He  greeted  me  with  the  same  air  of  raillery 
affected  by  Prince  Galitsyn,  and  I  observed  the 
smiling  glances  cast  at  me  by  the  young  noble- 
men about  him. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  rare  bit  of  gossip  that 
is  afloat  this  morning,  M.  le  Vicomte?"  he 
inquired  gayly. 

I  replied  that  having  just  reached  the  Krem- 
lin, I  was  ignorant  of  the  news.  At  this,  he 


192  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

glanced  archly  at  his  companions,  and  there  was 
a  smile  which  annoyed  me  not  a  little. 

"I  do  not  understand  the  drift  of  your 
humor,  gentlemen,"  I  said,  a  trifle  sharply. 

"Is  it  possible  that  you  do  not  observe  the 
black  looks  of  Ramodanofsky  and  Viatscheslav 
Naryshkin?"  Miloslavsky  asked,  with  more 
gravity. 

In  a  moment  I  caught  the  reason  of  their 
amusement,  but  was  at  loss  to  understand  their 
readiness  to  apply  it  to  me.  I  feigned  aston- 
ishment, and  looked  inquiringly  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Ramodanofsky  and  his  companion,  only 
to  encounter  a  black  look  from  the  former. 

"What  is  the  story?"  I  asked  carelessly, 
meeting  Miloslavsky's  quizzical  glance  with 
one  of  calm  interrogation. 

"It  appears  that  the  old  boyar,  who  is,  as  you 
may  have  divined,  of  an  amiable  disposition, 
intended  to  marry  his  beautiful  niece  to  Viat- 
scheslav Naryshkin  this  morning,"  replied 
Miloslavsky.  "  He  had  the  sanction  of  the 
czarina;  but  it  transpires  that  he  forgot  to 
consider  the  feelings  of  Ze"naide  Feodorovna, 
and  lo  and  behold,  this  morning  her  apartments 
are  vacant,  and  she  and  her  French  governess 
have  flown !  The  priest  and  Viatscheslav  were 
ready,  but  the  bride  had  vanished,  and  there  is 


THE  AUDIENCE-CHAMBER.  193 

the  sound  of  lamentation  in  the  gentle  boyar's 
palace;  it  is  even  rumored  that  he  has  mur- 
dered a  lackey  or  two  and  roasted  a  maid,  be- 
cause of  their  failure  to  detect  and  report  the 
movements  of  his  ward.  The  bridegroom  is,  of 
course,  inconsolable;  and,  a  word  with  you, 
M.  le  Vicomte,  it  will  not  be  wise  to  irritate 
his  gentle  temperament  to-day. " 

This  last  was  addressed  to  me  in  an  aside. 
I  glanced  at  Larion  keenly,  but  could  not  read 
his  meaning  in  his  face;  I  was  sure  of  only  one 
thing,  — that  they  knew  more  than  they  would 
divulge,  and  that,  in  some  mysterious  way,  my 
connection  with  the  affair  had  been  whispered 
about.  I  was  not  surprised  at  Miloslavsky's 
tone  in  speaking  of  Ramodanofsky,  for  I  knew 
that  all  that  faction  detested  him. 

I  endeavored  to  turn  the  conversation  away 
from  myself.  "  I  can  scarcely  fancy  Viatsches- 
lav  as  a  forlorn  lover,"  I  said  lightly;  "I 
imagine  he  can  easily  console  himself." 

"  It  is  not  the  loss  of  his  lady-love  which 
troubles  him,"  replied  Miloslavsky,  "but  the 
mortification  of  such  a  defeat,  and  at  the  hands 
of  an  inexperienced  girl." 

"  Picture  to  yourself  his  feelings,  M.  de 
Brousson,"  said  one  of  the  other  young  nobles; 
"he  has  fancied  himself  an  irresistible  gallant, 
13 


194  ON   THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

and  here  is  a  young  bride  running  from  him 
as  from  the  plague.  It  is  the  rarest  joke  upon 
him,  and  he  takes  it  ill  enough.  Look  at  his 
scowl;  it  has  been  gathering  like  a  thunder- 
storm all  the  morning." 

Following  the  young  fellow's  glance,  I  be- 
held Viatscheslav  standing  in  his  former  posi- 
tion, and  lowering  at  us  as  if  he  knew  that  he 
was  the  subject  of  our  discussion.  The  man's 
surly  face  struck  me  with  a  new  horror,  and  I 
understood  Ze"na'fde's  desperation. 

When  I  passed  on  to  make  my  obeisance  to 
the  czarina,  I  noticed  at  once  a  change  in  her 
manner;  it  was  even  more  marked  than  on  pre- 
vious occasions,  and  I  felt  not  a  little  chagrin 
at  her  decided  coldness.  Natalia's  manner 
could  be  haughty  in  the  extreme.  She  had 
tasted  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune  herself,  and 
they  had  probably  left  a  permanent  impression 
upon  her  character.  She  was  neither  as  subtle 
nor  as  diplomatic  as  her  great  rival,  Sophia,  and 
showed  her  feelings  with  more  openness.  She 
undoubtedly  valued  the  men  about  her  only  as 
she  could  estimate  their  devotion  to  her  son, 
and  she  resented  at  once  any  friendship  for  the 
cause  of  the  Miloslavskys.  Matveief,  on  the 
other  hand,  was  anxious  to  conciliate;  willing, 
too,  to  make  a  favorable  impression  upon  a 


THE  AUDIENCE-CHAMBER.  195 

foreigner,  his  courtesy  to  me  being  as  marked 
as  the  czarina's  coldness.  My  chief  annoy- 
ance, however,  was  to  find  myself  the  center  of 
observation,  and  there  was  a  continuous  murmur 
of  talk,  which  was  suggestive  that  I  was  the 
object  of  remark.  Before  finding  an  oppor- 
tunity to  depart,  I  came  in  immediate  contact 
with  the  group  about  Ramodanofsky  and 
Viatscheslav,  and  they  watched  me  in  silence 
as  I  approached,  intending  to  pass  them  on  my 
way  out.  But  I  was  not  destined  to  escape  so 
easily;  Viatscheslav,  by  a  sudden  movement, 
placed  himself  directly  in  my  path.  I  made  an 
attempt  to  turn  aside  to  avoid  him;  but  he 
checked  me  by  a  gesture. 

"  You  have  doubtless  heard  the  tattle  of  the 
court  to-day,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said  in  a 
loud  voice,  which  drew  general  attention;  "the 
Boyar  Ramodanofsky  has  suffered  an  affront; 
some  one  has  assisted  his  niece  in  her  flight 
from  his  house." 

"This  is  a  matter  which  cannot  concern  a 
stranger,  monsieur,"  I  replied  coldly,  although 
in  a  fever  of  anger  and  embarrassment,  for  I 
saw  that  we  were  on  the  edge  of  a  denouement, 
and  dreaded  the  consequences  of  a  colloquy 
before  such  an  audience.  Ramodanofsky  was 
listening,  but  took  no  part  in  the  conversation; 


196  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

his  dark  brows  bent  low  over  his  eyes  as  he 
lowered  at  us. 

"A  servant  of  yours,  M.  de  Brousson,"  Viat- 
scheslav  said,  with  an  emphasis  on  the  word 
servant,  "  has  been  seen  lurking  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  the  house;  perhaps  you  can  satis- 
factorily explain  his  presence  there." 

My  choler  was  rising  fast.  My  hand  was 
resting  on  the  hilt  of  my  sword,  and  I  looked 
Naryshkin  straight  in  the  eye;  I  knew  him  to 
be  an  inveterate  coward  unless  liquor  inspired 
him  with  temporary  bravado. 

"  Since  when  has  it  become  necessary  for  me 
to  account  to  you  for  my  servants  or  my  con- 
duct, monsieur?  "  I  exclaimed  haughtily,  and  in 
a  clear  voice.  "  You  forget  that  you  address  a 
French  subject,  the  Vicomte  de  Brousson." 

One  could  have  heard  a  pin  drop;  even  the 
czarina  and  Matveief  were  listening  to  the  dis- 
pute ;  but  my  blood  was  up,  and  it  was  a  matter 
of  indifference  to  me  whether  I  offended  against 
court  etiquette  or  not. 

"  Since  when  has  it  been  the  right  of  French 
subjects  to  violate  Russian  laws,  M.  le  Vi- 
comte?" he  retorted  angrily.  "You  will  find 
that  the  King  of  France  cannot  save  you  from 
being  called  to  account  in  Moscow." 

"This  passes  my  patience,  monsieur!"  I  re- 


THE  AUDIENCE-CHAMBER.  197 

plied  coldly.  "If  you  have  any  grievance 
against  me,  you  should  prefer  it  at  the  proper 
time." 

"I  am  at  your  service  at  any  hour,  M.  de 
Brousson, "  he  said,  misunderstanding  me. 

Then,  remembering  how  vile  the  man  was, 
my  anger  passed  the  bounds  of  prudence.  I 
measured  him  with  my  eye,  from  head  to  foot, 
with  a  glance  which  made  the  blood  burn  under 
his  swarthy  skin. 

"You  mistake  me,"  I  said  with  mocking 
suavity;  "no  gentleman  of  France  would  con- 
sent to  meet  you  on  the  field  of  honor.  The 
sword  of  a  Brousson  would  be  forever  contam- 
inated ! " 

This  goaded  him  to  fury,  and  before  any  one 
could  check  him,  his  sword  flew  from  the  scab- 
bard, and  he  made  a  pass  at  me,  which  was 
thrust  aside  by  the  czarina  herself.  She  stood 
between  us  with  a  gesture  of  indignation 
which  suddenly  lent  an  imperial  dignity  to  her 
aspect. 

"You  forget  in  whose  presence  you  stand," 
she  said  haughtily;  "if  I  cannot  be  an  empress 
even  in  my  own  palace,  it  is  time  that  I  laid 
aside  my  crown.  Viatscheslav,  leave  the  room 
at  once;  and  you,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  said, 
turning  on  me  coldly,  "have  you  considered 


198  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

the  courtesy  due  a  hostess,  if  you  do  not  recog- 
nize the  honor  due  a  queen?  " 

I  made  a  profound  obeisance. 

"I  crave  your  majesty's  pardon  and  indulr 
gence,"  I  said;  "the  quarrel  was  provoked  by 
the  other  side,  but  I  recognize  my  error,  and 
regret  it  deeply." 

She  accepted  the  apology  haughtily. 

"It  is  well,"  she  said;  "but  let  it  not  occur 
again,  or  I  shall  begin  to  doubt  that  Natalia  is 
a  czarina. " 

And  she  turned  coldly  away,  leaving  me  to 
make  my  exit  with  what  grace  I  could  assume, 
under  the  curious  gaze  of  fifty  pairs  of  eyes. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE  SECRET  STAIRCASE. 

I  HAD  almost  reached  the  foot  of  the  Red 
Staircase,  when  some  one  caught  my  cloak; 
turning,  I  was  confronted  by  Peter  Lykof's 
servant  Michael.  The  man's  face  was  full  of 
anxiety,  and  he  drew  close  to  me  before  address- 
ing me  in  Russian. 

"You  are  watched,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice; 
"  your  life  is  in  danger.  My  master  bade  me 
warn  you." 

"  Where  is  your  master  ?  "  I  asked  at  once, 
marveling  a  little  at  the  rapidity  with  which 
Lykof  had  acquired  the  news. 

"  He  will  see  you  presently, "  Michael  replied, 
still  mysteriously.  "He  is  not  far  away;  but 
he,  too,  is  threatened  with  danger. " 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  see  him,"  I  said  slowly, 
"and  I  thank  you  for  the  warning.  I  can 
imagine  that  it  may  be  a  little  difficult  for  me," 
I  added,  smiling,  for  I  could  not  easily  forget 


2OO  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

Viatscheslav's  look  of  baffled  fury,  or  the  lower- 
ing eyes  of  Ramodanofsky. 

"Be  warned,  your  excellency,"  the  man  pro- 
tested nervously.  "  The  Boyar  Vladimir  Ramo- 
danofsky never  forgets  an  injury." 

I  started.  Could  nothing  be  kept  secret  in 
Russia?  How  many  were  in  my  confidence? 
I  regarded  the  fellow  with  a  feeling  of  anger. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  my  affairs  might  as  well 
be  placarded  on  my  back.  Whether  he  inter- 
preted my  expression  or  not  I  could  not  tell ; 
but  he  drew  back,  and  saluting  me  respectfully, 
departed  in  the  direction  of  the  Cathedral  of 
Basil  the  Beatified. 

I  walked  on,  crossing  the  Red  Place  without 
meeting  any  one  but  an  equerry  of  Prince 
Galitsyn,  who  passed  me  with  a  courteous  salu- 
tation; and  proceeding  at  a  rapid  gait,  I  went 
out  at  the  Gate  of  the  Redeemer,  and  made 
directly  for  Dr.  von  Gaden's  house.  I  was 
extremely  anxious  and  disturbed.  In  some 
mysterious  way,  my  connection  with  Zenai'de's 
flight  was  an  open  secret ;  the  whole  court,  from 
the  czarina  and  Prince  Galitsyn  to  the  hum- 
blest gentleman- in-waiting,  were  acquainted 
with  the  circumstance.  I  could  scarcely  hope, 
therefore,  that  her  retreat  would  remain  undis- 
covered, in  which  case  Von  Gaden's  house  would 


THE  SECRET  STAIRCASE.  2OI 

be  but  an  insecure  asylum  for  her.  I  reflected 
anxiously  upon  the  situation,  and  could  see 
only  one  course  open;  but  nothing  could  be 
done  without  her  consent,  and  I  felt  that 
Sophia  might  not  be  strong  enough  to  protect 
Zenalde  at  this  juncture.  If  I  had  dared  to 
ask  her  to  marry  me  at  that  time,  I  should  have 
proposed  flight  to  France,  difficult  and  hazard- 
ous as  that  would  have  been.  I  believed  that  it 
could  be  accomplished,  but  I  dared  not  approach 
her  so  abruptly ;  for  although  I  hoped  much,  I 
was  not  yet  assured  of  her  regard,  and  she  was 
hedged  in  by  the  training  and  usage  that  made 
a  romantic  courtship  almost  impossible.  Beset 
with  these  reflections,  I  made  rapid  progress, 
looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left  until  I 
found  myself  at  Von  Gaden's  door.  As  soon 
as  I  obtained  admittance,  I  sent  a  message  to 
Madame  von  Gaden,  requesting  to  speak  with 
her  guest,  Mademoiselle  Ramodanofsky,  or 
with  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie.  In  a  few  moments 
the  physician's  wife  came  down  alone.  Before 
I  had  time  to  repeat  my  request,  she  addressed 
me  with  an  unusually  perturbed  manner. 

"I  went  myself  with  your  message,  M.  le 
Vicomte,"  she  said  anxiously,  "but  I  cannot 
obtain  admittance.  Your  friends  have  bolted 
the  only  door  that  communicates  with  the  hall 


202  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

from  their  rooms,  and  they  do  not  reply  to  my 
repeated  summons." 

Knowing  that  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  was  the 
last  person  in  the  world  to  ignore  her  hostess, 
or  treat  her  with  discourtesy,  I  took  alarm  at 
once. 

"Can  anything  have  happened  to  them?"  I 
exclaimed  hastily. 

"Impossible!"  madame  replied.  "No  one 
has  disturbed  us,  or  even  inquired  for  them, 
and  they  were  well  and  composed  when  their 
breakfast  was  served.  There  are  three  rooms, 
and  they  may  have  fallen  asleep  in  the 
one  farthest  from  the  hall.  In  no  other  way 
can  I  explain  their  failure  to  respond  to  my 
calls." 

"If  you  will  permit  me,  madame,"  I  said  at 
once,  "  I  will  go  with  you  to  the  door.  May- 
hap I  can  make  more  noise,  and  rouse  these  fair 
sleepers." 

In  my  heart,  I  never  thought  that  they  were 
sleeping,  but  could  see  no  explanation  of  their 
silence.  Madame  von  Gaden  assented  readily 
to  my  proposal,  and  I  followed  her  up  the  stairs. 
Arriving  at  the  second  floor,  she  led  me  along 
a  short  hall  to  the  right,  and  pausing  before  a 
closed  door,  tapped  on  it  lightly  with  her 
finger. 


THE  SECRET  STAIRCASE.  2O$ 

"These  are  the  rooms,  M.  de  Brousson,"  she 
said,  and  I  saw  the  reflection  of  my  own  appre- 
hension on  her  face.  She  stood  aside,  and  I 
knocked  on  the  door,  receiving  no  response. 
Then,  thoroughly  alarmed,  I  took  the  hilt  of 
my  sword,  and  struck  the  panel  with  consider- 
able force.  The  blow  echoed  through  the  quiet 
house;  but  there  was  no  response  from  within, 
not  the  slightest  movement.  Madame  had 
grown  very  pale,  and  stood  with  her  hand  on 
her  heart. 

"  Is  there  any  other  way  of  approaching  these 
apartments  ?  "  I  asked  abruptly. 

She  started  violently,  as  if  with  a  sudden 
recollection. 

"The  secret  staircase!"  she  exclaimed  at 
once,  staring  at  me  in  blank  amazement. 

"Ma  foil"  I  cried,  pushed  beyond  all 
patience.  "Explain  yourself,  madame.  This 
is  a  serious  matter." 

"  Alas ! "  she  replied  with  equal  excitement. 
"Do  I  not  know  it?  But  it  is  impossible  that 
any  one  should  find  the  secret  staircase  from 
without,  and  surely  they  would  not  go  away 
themselves  without  informing  us." 

"Either  show  me  the  staircase,  madame,"  I 
said,  "or  permit  me  to  force  the  door." 

"Force  it  by  all  means,  monsieur,"  she  re- 


2O4  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

plied  hastily;  "it  is  the  shortest  way.     I  wish 
that  Dr.  von  Gaden  had  not  gone  out." 

I  was  too  thoroughly  alarmed  to  hesitate  a 
moment  longer,  and  forced  the  lock  as  quickly 
as  I  could  with  the  tools  that  madame  had  at 
hand.  When  it  gave  way,  we  entered  the  ante- 
room, and  crossing  it,  pushed  on  into  the  bed- 
rooms beyond.  They  were  silent  and  deserted ; 
there  were  signs  of  recent  occupation,  but  there 
was  no  one  in  either  room.  Madame  ran  ahead 
of  me,  and  passing  into  the  farther  apartment, 
went  to  a  curtained  alcove,  and  pushing  aside 
the  hangings,  uttered  an  exclamation.  Fol- 
lowing her,  I  saw  that  she  had  uncovered  a 
secret  door,  a  panel  in  the  wall,  and  it  was 
partially  thrust  aside.  Without  a  word,  she 
ran  for  a  light  and  preceded  me  through  the 
narrow  aperture,  down  a  crooked  flight  of 
stairs,  evidently  contrived  to  facilitate  the 
escape  of  the  occupants  of  these  rooms.  As 
we  went,  she  held  the  light  low  down,  that  we 
might  see  the  stairs,  and  I  was  forced  to  feel 
my  way  cautiously,  for  they  were  irregular,  and 
extremely  steep.  Half  way  down  madame 
stopped  and  pointed,  and  seeing  an  object  lying 
at  her  feet,  I  stooped  and  picked  up  a  veil, 
which  I  recognized  at  once  as  the  one  worn  by 
Ze"na"ide  on  the  previous  evening.  This  in- 


THE  SECRET  STAIRCASE.  205 

creased  my  alarm,  and  we  moved  on  more  cau- 
tiously. At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  was  a  door 
which  was  unlatched,  and  here  madame  stood 
aside,  shielding  her  light  from  the  draught,  while 
I  opened  the  door  and  found  myself  in  a  sub- 
terranean vault.  A  gust  of  air  from  the  other 
side  guided  me  to  a  half-opened  trap-door, 
which  I  lifted,  and  looked  out  into  the  lane 
behind  Von  Gaden's  house.  We  had  reached 
the  end  of  our  explorations,  and  it  was  not 
difficult  to  draw  conclusions.  I  looked  out; 
but  there  was  no  sign  of  any  one,  and  on  either 
side  were  the  gray  walls  of  the  house  and  court. 
Madame  von  Gaden  stood  by  the  cellar  door, 
shielding  her  light;  neither  of  us  had  uttered 
a  word,  but  each  comprehended  the  other's 
thought.  I  felt  that  madame  suspected  that 
her  mysterious  guests  had  departed  of  their 
own  free  will,  while  I  knew  that  it  could  not 
be  so,  unless  there  had  been  some  deception 
used.  In  any  case,  no  time  could  be  lost.  I 
closed  the  trap,  and  madame,  comprehending 
my  conclusion,  turned  and  led  the  way  up  the 
stairs,  this  time  stopping  to  search  each  step 
with  her  light,  but  without  result.  Zena'ide's 
veil,  which  was  in  my  hand,  was  the  only  proof 
that  she  had  descended  the  secret  stairs.  At 
the  top  I  closed  the  panel,  and  madame,  set- 


206  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ting  down  the  light,  looked  about  with  a  kind 
of  nervous  apprehension;  it  was  evident  that 
she  was  terribly  agitated  and  alarmed.  If  I 
had  had  any  just  cause  to  doubt  her  loyalty  or 
her  husband's,  it  would  have  been  removed  by 
her  manifest  trepidation.  I  looked  anxiously 
about  the  rooms,  but  there  were  absolutely  no 
signs  of  violence;  it  seemed  as  if  Mademoiselle 
Eudoxie  and  Ze"naide  might  have  been  quietly 
sitting  there  but  a  moment  since. 

"  Have  you  heard  any  sounds  to  alarm  you  ?  " 
I  asked,  thoroughly  at  sea. 

She  shook  her  head.  "Not  a  sound,"  she 
replied  earnestly;  "and  it  seems  impossible 
that  any  one  has  discovered  that  staircase.  No 
one  has  known  of  it  but  the  doctor  and  my- 
self, and  the  man  who  built  it  is  dead.  He 
was  a  faithful  German,  and  returned  to  his  own 
country  and  died  there  more  than  two  years 
ago." 

"  Yet  it  is  evident  that  some  one  found  the 
stairs,"  I  retorted  a  trifle  sharply,  for  I  was 
sorely  tried. 

"Not  from  without,"  she  protested;  "the 
fastenings  were  too  secure." 

I  had  noticed  this,  and  it  had  increased  my  per- 
plexity. I  went  now  to  the  windows  and  looked 
out;  two  of  them  were  on  the  main  street,  two 


THE  SECRET  STAIRCASE.  2O? 

on  the  lane,  but  it  was  impossible  for  any  one 
to  scale  that  solid  wall  and  obtain  entrance 
there.  I  saw  that  madame's  solution  was  the 
most  feasible,  but  nevertheless  promptly  re- 
jected it;  it  was  impossible  that  these  two 
women  should  secretly  flee  from  the  protection 
of  the  good  doctor;  at  such  a  time,  besides, 
nothing  could  result  from  the  flight  but  certain 
disaster.  Zenaide's  quick  mind  would  have 
rejected  such  a  plan  as  wholly  impracticable, 
and  mademoiselle  was  far  too  timid  to  have 
either  proposed  or  sanctioned  it.  I  was  at  my 
wits'  end,  and  madame  was  far  too  obstinate  in 
her  opinion  to  suggest  any  other  solution  of  the 
problem,  although  she  assisted  me  readily 
enough  in  making  a  thorough  search  of  the 
rooms  for  any  sign  or  token  which  might  ex- 
plain the  motive  or  the  cause  of  the  strange 
disappearance.  Remembering  that  Ramodan- 
ofsky  and  Viatscheslav  were  at  the  palace  when 
I  arrived  there,  and  that  I  had  left  them  there 
when  I  departed,  I  questioned  madame  about 
the  hour  at  which  breakfast  had  been  served  to 
her  guests,  and  found  that  they  had  eaten  it 
while  I  was  at  the  Kremlin;  therefore  their 
departure  had  not  only  been  recent,  but  had 
not  been  accomplished  by  Ramodanofsky  or 
Naryshkin,  in  person  at  least.  This,  while  it 


2O8  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

was  perplexing,  was  also  reassuring.  I  should 
have  been  glad  of  Von  Gaden's  presence 
and  counsel;  but  he  had  not  yet  returned, 
and  I  could  think  of  no  better  assistant  than 
Pierrot. 

I  went  to  my  own  quarters  in  a  state  of  great 
perturbation;  my  anxiety  was  of  the  liveliest, 
and  in  addition,  I  saw  that  my  position  was  be- 
coming hourly  more  difficult.  I  cared  for  noth- 
ing at  this  time,  however,  except  for  Z6naide's 
safety.  On  my  way  to  my  house,  I  hit  upon  a 
plan  for  obtaining  information,  and  as  soon  as 
I  reached  there,  took  Pierrot  into  my  confi- 
dence, and  together  we  considered  the  advisa- 
bility of  carrying  out  my  scheme.  Pierrot, 
doubtless  suspecting  how  matters  stood,  showed 
even  more  than  his  usual  devotion  to  my  inter- 
ests. The  fellow  was  faithful,  and  when  fully 
aroused,  clever  enough  to  be  an  able  assistant. 
I  congratulated  myself  again  and  again  on  my 
own  sagacity  in  having  had  him  instructed  in 
Russian,  for  his  knowledge  of  the  language  was 
invaluable  to  me  now;  it  made  possible  the 
successful  execution  of  my  scheme.  He  dis- 
guised himself  as  a  messenger  from  Naryshkin, 
so  as  to  gain  admittance  into  the  Ramodanofsky 
house ;  for  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  be  assured 
that  Zenai'de  and  her  companion  were  not  incar- 


THE   SECRET  STAIRCASE. 

cerated  there;  moreover,  it  was  probable  that, 
in  any  case,  he  could  pick  up  valuable  informa- 
tion among  the  serfs.  There  was  very  little 
risk  that  he  would  be  recognized,  and  I  could 
rely  implicitly  on  his  skill  in  extricating  him- 
self from  any  ordinary  difficulty.  But,  hopeful 
as  I  was  of  this  adventure,  it  was  barren  of 
results.  Pierrot  obtained  admission  to  the 
house  without  trouble,  and  managed  to  make  a 
thorough  investigation,  easily  satisfying  him- 
self that  neither  Z6na'fde  nor  mademoiselle  was 
there ;  and  further,  he  was  sure  that  the  servants 
had  no  knowledge  of  their  fate,  unless  it  were 
the  man  Polotsky,  who  seemed  to  enjoy  a  posi- 
tion of  confidence,  and  was  too  thoroughly  dis- 
liked and  distrusted  by  his  fellow-servants  to 
share  his  secrets  with  them.  Pierrot  was 
plainly  disappointed  by  the  unfruitfulness  of 
his  mission,  and  I  was  in  a  state  of  desperation. 
I  thought  of  a  dozen  expedients,  but  rejected 
them  all  as  impossible;  on  every  hand  I  was 
confronted  by  a  blank  wall.  Although  I  was 
convinced  that  Zenaide  had  been  spirited  away 
by  some  one  against  her  will,  there  was  no  proof 
that  she  had  not  left  Von  Gaden's  house  volun- 
tarily, regretting  her  confidence  in  me.  Clearly, 
I  had  no  right  to  pursue  her  in  her  flight,  and 
no  authority  upon  which  to  base  an  appeal  to 

14 


210  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

the   Czarevna   Sophia,    who    seemed  my   only 
resource. 

In  the  midst  of  these  reflections,  Pierrot  an- 
nounced the  arrival  of  two  visitors,  and  hoping 
for  tidings  of  some  sort,  I  went  at  once  to  see 
them.  They  were  Dr.  von  Gaden  and  Peter 
Lykof.  I  was  surprised  to  see  the  latter,  but 
remembering  the  warning  in  the  Kremlin, 
greeted  him  with  cordiality;  I  intended  to  ex- 
cuse myself  to  him,  however,  and  speak  alone 
to  the  Jew  about  the  disappearance  of  Zenaide, 
but  Von  Gaden  forestalled  me  by  speaking 
plainly  before  Lykof,  which  astonished  and 
annoyed  me. 

"  Have  you  any  news  of  Mademoiselle  Ramo- 
danofsky?"  he  asked  hastily.  "Is  there  any 
sign  of  them,  or  of  their  probable  fate?  " 

I  looked  at  Lykof,  and  the  doctor,  seeing  my 
glance,  smiled. 

"Speak  without  reserve,"  he  said  at  once; 
"we  are  all  friends." 

But  Lykof  came  forward. 

"M.  le  Vicomte  is  right,"  he  said,  with  a 
dignity  of  manner  that  made  his  tall  figure 
suddenly  imposing.  He  stood  in  the  center  of 
the  room,  the  light  full  on  his  scarred  cheek 
and  broad  brow  and  keen  eyes,  —  a  man  of 
iron. 


THE  SECRET  STAIRCASE.  211 

"  I  owe  you,  at  least,  the  truth,  M.  de 
Brousson,"  he  said  slowly;  "no  one  has  a 
better  right  to  inquire  into  the  fate  of  Zenai'de 
than  I,  for  I  am  her  father,  Feodor  Sergheie- 
vitch  Ramodanof sky. " 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

FEODOR  SERGHEIEVITCH  RAMODANOFSKY. 

I  TOOK  a  step  backward  and  stared  at  him  in 
surprise.  My  feelings  were  strangely  confused, 
and  in  that  first  moment  I  did  not  realize  how 
completely  the  situation  was  transformed  by 
this  revelation ;  the  only  thought  that  presented 
itself  to  me  was  that  I  saw  Zena'fde's  father. 
The  boyar's  strong  face  was  without  its  mask 
of  repose,  and  was  full  of  deep  emotion.  Be- 
fore I  had  collected  myself  he  spoke  again. 

"I  am  greatly  indebted  to  you,  M.  le 
Vicomte,"  he  said.  "I  owe  you  my  life,  for  it 
is  probable  that  Polotsky  would  have  murdered 
me  that  night;  and  now  Von  Gaden  tells  me 
that  I  owe  you  my  daughter's  escape  from  a 
loathsome  and  degrading  marriage." 

"I  pray  that  she  may  have  escaped,"  I  said, 
"but  this  disappearance  alarms  me  greatly." 

"We    have    just    learned   it,"   Von    Gaden 


FEODOR  RAMODANOFSKY.  21$ 

remarked.  "  Ramodanofsky  had  but  now  de- 
cided to  announce  his  identity  to  his  daughter, 
when  my  wife  told  us  of  your  discovery. " 

I  explained  to  them  my  abortive  attempt  to 
learn  something  at  the  Ramodanofsky  house, 
and  of  Pierrot's  suspicion  that  Polotsky  knew 
more  than  the  other  servants,  but  would  not 
reveal  it. 

"Polotsky  must  be  secured,  then,"  Feodor 
said  at  once ;  "  he  is  an  abominable  wretch,  and 
deserves  nothing  so  much  as  torture. " 

Looking  at  the  boyar's  face,  I  recognized  the 
fact  that  his  nerves  were  not  so  delicately 
strung  as  to  shudder  at  the  most  refined  cruelty, 
and  fancied  that  the  steward  would  find  little 
mercy  at  his  hands.  Polotsky  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  capture,  however,  for  his  experience 
with  us  had  probably  made  him  wary;  never- 
theless, we  soon  fixed  upon  a  plan  for  securing 
him.  Pierrot  and  Ramodanof sky's  servant, 
Michael,  were  deputed  to  lie  in  wait  for  the 
wretch  and  bring  him  to  us;  the  only  danger 
seeming  to  be  Michael's  ferocious  hatred  of 
his  enemy.  The  man  had  accompanied  the 
boyar  to  my  quarters,  and  he  and  Pierrot  were 
at  once  despatched  with  instructions  to  secure 
Polotsky  as  soon  as  possible.  Ramodanofsky 
went  to  the  anteroom  to  give  a  last  word  of 


214  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

warning  to  his  servant,  and  I  found  myself 
alone  with  the  Jewish  doctor. 

"It  appears  that  dead  men  rise  at  their 
pleasure  in  Russia,"  I  remarked  dryly. 

Von  Gaden  smiled.  "  It  is  a  strange  history, 
but  I  was  not  wrong  in  my  supposition,"  he 
replied;  "Vladimir  did  nearly  murder  the 
boyar,  and  did  compass  his  ruin." 

"  Undoubtedly,"  I  returned ;  "  but  how  has  he 
hidden  him  all  these  years?  " 

"  It  is  easy  to  obliterate  a  ruined  man,  M. 
de  Brousson,"  replied  the  boyar  himself,  for, 
entering  unobserved,  he  had  overheard  my 
question.  "  My  life  has  been  checkered  by 
black  misfortunes,  and  my  identity  almost 
destroyed  by  the  villainy  of  Vladimir." 

"I  beg  pardon,  monsieur,"  I  said  at  once, 
"for  the  question  that  would  have  seemed  un- 
warranted from  a  stranger  if  addressed  to  you ; 
but  Dr.  von  Gaden  has  told  me  of  your  apparent 
death,  therefore  your  re-appearance  naturally 
overwhelmed  me  with  amazement." 

"  I  have  been  as  good  as  dead,"  replied  Ramo- 
danofsky,  an  expression  of  stern  sadness  coming 
over  his  face.  "  After  I  was  stricken  down  in 
my  own  courtyard,  by  my  brother's  hand,  I  lay 
in  a  trance,  and  on  my  recovery,  found  myself 
in  a  convict's  garb  and  in  prison.  My  efforts 


FEODOR  RAMODANOPSKY.  215 

to  proclaim  my  identity  and  obtain  justice  were 
scouted  as  the  vagaries  of  a  madman.  It  was 
impossible  to  gain  redress ;  impossible  to  reach 
the  proper  authorities  with  my  complaint.  I 
had  not  only  ceased  to  be  a  free  man,  but  it 
seemed  as  if  I  had  ceased  to  be  even  a  human 
being !  I  have  eaten  the  bitter  bread  of  humili- 
ation and  exile.  If  I  am  no  longer  merciful 
and  just  as  other  men,  it  is  because  I  have 
received  neither  mercy  nor  justice.  Hunted 
like  a  wild  beast,  and  treated  as  one,  it  seems 
to  me  a  marvel  that  I  have  retained  the  sem- 
blance of  a  man.  There  was  no  chance  of 
escape  for  years,  and  when  it  came  at  last,  so 
worn  out  and  broken  was  I,  that  I  would 
scarcely  have  embraced  my  opportunity  but  for 
the  thought  of  my  child.  There  was  no  hope 
of  justice  from  the  late  czar  or  his  father;  but 
the  Czarevna  Sophia  is  willing  to  propitiate  the 
older  nobles,  and  I  represent  a  class  that  has 
had  little  friendship  for  her." 

"  Prince  Galitsyn  knows  of  your  identity,  does 
he  not  ?  "  I  asked,  my  mind  full  of  the  new 
possibilities. 

"Prince  Basil  is  my  friend,"  replied  Ramo- 
danofsky;  "his  father  and  I  were  comrades,  and 
it  is  to  him  I  owe  the  friendship  of  the 
czarevna. " 


2l6  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"  You  have  come  at  the  time  when  you  are 
most  needed,  monsieur,"  I  said;  "you,  and 
you  alone,  can  save  your  daughter. " 

"If  I  had  been  earlier  advised  of  her 
danger,"  he  replied,  "I  should  have  acted  more 
decisively;  as  it  stands,  it  is  to  you  that  I  am 
beholden,  M.  de  Brousson. " 

I  bowed  in  acknowledgment,  not  without  a 
feeling  of  pleasure  that  Z6naide's  father  was 
already  in  my  debt.  As  he  stood  before  us 
now,  in  his  true  character,  I  was  more  than 
ever  impressed  by  the  man's  dignity,  the  stern 
resolution  of  his  brow  and  mouth,  the  traces 
of  a  handsome  youth  lost  by  rugged  usage  and 
the  disfiguring  scar.  Yet  I  was  conscious  too 
of  a  new  feeling,  which  I  could  not  analyze: 
I  was  no  longer  Zenalde's  only  chance  of 
escape ;  here  was  her  natural  protector,  the  one 
who  would  have  the  first  voice  in  deciding  my 
fate.  I  could  not  but  wonder  how  much  he 
knew,  or  imagined,  of  my  feeling  for  his 
daughter,  meanwhile  endeavoring  to  play  the 
host  with  what  grace  I  could  summon  in  the 
midst  of  my  anxiety.  I  invited  my  two  guests 
to  partake  of  a  light  repast,  which  I  noticed  the 
boyar  ate  calmly,  like  a  man  who  was  accus- 
tomed to  facing  anxieties  and  difficulties,  and 
whose  nerves  could  remain  unshaken  in  the 


FEODOR  RAMODANOFSKY.  21? 

midst  of  disaster;  even  Von  Gaden  showed 
more  excitement,  and  I  only  made  a  pretence 
of  eating  as  a  matter  of  courtesy. 

"Your  appetite  is  poor,  M.  le  Vicomte," 
Ramodanofsky  remarked  calmly,  glancing  at 
my  plate. 

I  made  some  excuse,  speaking  of  the  anxiety 
of  the  moment. 

"It  makes  no  difference,  M.  de  Brousson," 
he  replied  quietly.  "I  am  a  good  deal  of  a 
fatalist.  If  evil  is  to  happen,  it  will  happen ; 
to  eat  or  to  fast  will  not  avert  it.  If  you  had 
been  through  my  bitter  experience,  you  would 
face  any  crisis  with  more  composure.  Fear  or 
suffering,  in  anticipation,  is  a  poor  method  of 
borrowing  trouble,  and  avails  nothing.  The 
only  way  to  conquer  misfortune  is  to  meet  it 
with  indomitable  will." 

Looking  at  his  severe  scarred  face,  I  could 
readily  fancy  his  manner  of  meeting  adversity. 

"M.  de  Brousson  is  young  yet,"  Von  Gaden 
remarked,  "and  young  blood  is  easily  stirred." 

I  heard  footsteps  on  the  stair,  and  rising  from 
my  chair,  stood  looking  at  the  two  men  before 
me. 

" Mon  Dieti,  gentlemen  ! "  I  exclaimed,  "  is  it 
a  light  matter?  I  could  face  death,  methinks, 
with  a  composure  equal  to  your  own,  but  here 


2l8  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE, 

is  a  terrible  situation.  Mademoiselle  Ramo- 
danofsky  has  disappeared,  and  we  cannot  tell 
what  fate  may  have  overtaken  her ! " 

Ramodanofsky  rose  too,  and  a  look  of  deep 
trouble  swept  over  his  hard  features,  refuting 
my  momentary  thought  that  all  natural  feeling 
was  dead  within  him.  While  we  stood  thus, 
the  door  was  flung  open,  and  Pierrot,  with  a 
disordered  and  mud-splashed  dress,  stood  upon 
the  threshold. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  great 
excitement,  addressing  me  in  French,  and  un- 
conscious that  both  the  other  two  understood 
him,  "  we  have'trapped  the  steward,  and  if  you 
do  not  come  down  at  once,  that  Russian  devil 
will  fricassee  him  alive  before  we  can  extract 
any  information  from  him !  " 

Feoclor  laughed,  startling  Pierrot  so  that  he 
stood  staring. 

"My  good  fellow,"  the  boyar  said  to  him  in 
French,  "you  would  fricassee  the  steward  too, 
if  you  had  as  heavy  a  debt  against  him  as  poor 
Michael  has." 

Knowing  Michael's  proclivities,  neither  Von 
Gaden  nor  I  delayed,  but  hurried  down  the 
stairs,  followed  by  the  boyar.  Pierrot  directed 
us  to  a  low  room  on  the  ground  floor;  and  before 
we  reached  the  door,  sounds  like  suppressed 


FEODOR  RAMODANOFSKY.  219 

groans,  greeting  our  ears,  hastened  our  steps. 
When  we  arrived,  a  curious  scene  met  our  eyes. 
It  was  a  low,  bare  room,  which  had  probably 
been  used  as  a  dungeon  before ;  there  was  a  fire 
burning  on  the  hearth,  and  over  it  hung  the 
white-faced  Michael,  heating  a  poker  red-hot. 
Tied  in  a  chair  before  the  fire  was  the  cring- 
ing figure  of  the  steward,  a  miserable  heap  of 
cowardice.  His  shoes  and  stockings  having 
been  removed,  I  had  no  doubt  about  his 
enemy's  intentions;  the  abject  fear  on  one  face 
and  the  fierce  exultation  on  the  other  were  both 
suggestive,  not  of  men,  but  of  beasts.  Von 
Gaden  and  I  paused  on  the  threshold,  arrested 
by  the  curious  and  revolting  spectacle;  but 
Ramodanofsky  passed  us,  and  going  over  to  the 
hearth,  checked  his  servant  by  a  gesture. 
Michael  stood  transfixed  at  his  order;  but  his 
fingers  still  clung  lovingly  to  the  handle  of  the 
red-hot  poker,  and  his  small,  cruel  eyes  never 
left  his  enemy,  seeming  to  feast  on  his  agony. 
Feodor  Sergheievitch  took  his  position  in  front 
of  the  prisoner,  and  standing  with  his  hands 
behind  him,  viewed  him  with  cold  contempt. 

"Make  a  full  confession,  knave,"  he  said 
scornfully,  "for  equivocation  will  avail  nothing 
now.  Where  has  your  master  hidden  my 
daughter  ?  Answer,  for  you  are  at  our  mercy !  " 


22O  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"Ay!"  ejaculated  the  steward,  sullenly,  and 
without  looking  up ;  "  your  hour  has  come,  and 
it  will  be  as  easy  to  die  one  way  as  another,  so 
you  are  quick." 

"But  we  will  not  be  quick,"  replied  the  Rus- 
sian, calmly;  "we  will  be  slow, — extremely 
slow,  Polotsky.  You  shall  die  as  traitors 
ought  to  die  —  as  thieves  and  assassins  always 
die!  And  be  sure  it  will  be  ten  times  more 
slow  —  more  agonizing  —  more  terrific  —  if  you 
do  not  confess.  Every  moment  that  you  delay 
adds  an  hour  to  your  torture,  delays  just  so 
long  the  blessed  relief  of  death,  which  is  too 
good  for  you !  " 

Von  Gaden  and  I  said  nothing,  but  stood 
there,  silent  witnesses  of  a  scene  which  sug- 
gested to  both  of  us  the  barbarism  of  the  Tartar. 
We  could  not  doubt,  looking  at  the  Russian's 
cold,  composed  face,  that  he  would  torture  his 
victim  if  he  thought  that  it  was  necessary  to  do 
so,  to  extract  information,  — would  torture  him 
as  readily  as  he  would  look  at  him.  Polotsky 
lay  there  before  him,  cringing  like  a  stricken 
beast.  There  was  no  doubt  of  his  making  a 
full  confession,  if  it  was  possible  for  him  to 
tell  the  truth  at  all  before  such  a  tribunal :  his 
old  master  looking  at  him  without  mercy,  and 
behind  him  his  bitterest  foe  with  a  livid  face, 


FEODOR  RAMODANOFSKY.  221 

as  ferocious  in  its  longing  for  his  blood  as  any 
wolf's. 

"  Speak,  brute !  "  exclaimed  the  boyar,  harshly, 
glancing  aside  at  the  red-hot  poker  in  his  ser- 
vant's hand. 

"  Have  mercy  on  me !  "  shrieked  the  wretch, 
suddenly  writhing  in  his  bonds  until  he  faced 
me.  "Have  mercy  on  me,  Frenchman!  save 
me,  and  I  will  confess  all  —  all ! " 

Loathsome  as  the  fellow  was,  I  felt  some 
pity.  I  have  never  loved  the  thought  of  tor- 
ture; an  equal  fight,  a  swift  and  just  retribution, 
but  never  such  a  scene  as  this !  Beneath  the 
Russian  noble's  cold  exterior  I  saw  the  savage 
goaded  to  hatred  and  revenge  by  bitter  wrong : 
relentless,  inexorable,  resistless. 

"Save  me,"  shrieked  the  wretched  steward, 
"  and  you  shall  save  her !  " 

"  Do  you  hear  that  ?  "  cried  Ramodanofsky. 
"He  admits  his  knowledge  of  my  child's  fate! 
Confess,  you  villain,  or  I  will  burn  you  with 
fire!" 

I  came  into  the  room  and  spoke  to  him  in 
French. 

"I  pray  your  forbearance,  monsieur,"  I  said; 
"the  fellow  is  too  miserable  a  coward  to  confess 
under  such  a  pressure.  Leave  him  to  me  but  a 
moment,  and  I  think  I  can  promise  you  the 
whole  truth. " 


222  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"It  is  easier  to  cut  his  throat  if  he  refuses," 
exclaimed  the  boyar,  impatiently. 

"Time  presses,  monsieur,"  I  said  quietly, 
"and  he  is  willing  to  confess  to  me." 

Ramodanofsky  stood  aside  with  a  gesture  of 
courtesy. 

"It  is  your  house,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said 
with  dignity,  and  made  Michael  go  with  him, 
so  that  in  a  moment  I  was  left  alone  with  the 
prisoner,  the  red-hot  poker  gleaming  lividly 
upon  the  hearthstone. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

POLOTSKY. 

FOR  a  few  moments  I  stood  regarding  the 
wretch  in  silence.  He  was  a  picture  of  abject 
and  villainous  misery;  knowing  that  he  was  in 
the  hands  of  his  most  determined  enemies,  he 
fancied  a  fate  as  hideous  as  his  own  crimes.  A 
man  who  has  been  hard  and  brutal  to  others  is, 
in  his  hour  of  reckoning,  the  most  abject  coward 
on  earth.  Pierrot  had  fastened  him  securely  in 
his  chair,  and  he  lay  there  writhing  in  his 
bonds,  his  face  livid,  and  the  cold  sweat  stand- 
ing in  beads  on  his  brow.  To  me  he  was 
simply  repulsive;  I  felt  no  pity  then,  and  he 
saw  it,  and  groaned  aloud  in  his  despair. 

"Be  brief,  fellow,"  I  said  coldly;  "I  have 
already  waited  five  minutes.  Delay  will  avail 
you  nothing.  If  you  do  not  confess  to  me, 
there  are  others  to  find  a  shorter  means  to 
wag  your  tongue." 

He  shuddered,  and  clenched  the  chair  with 
his  hands. 


224  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"Save  me,"  he  gasped,  "and  I  will  tell  you 
all  I  know !  Save  me  from  those  men !  " 

"I  will  make  no  conditions,"  I  retorted 
calmly.  "  If  you  confess,  I  will  not  have  you 
tortured  here;  if  you  do  not,  I  will  turn  you 
over  to  your  old  master,  and  he  may  do  as  he 
pleases  with  you." 

The  wretch  stared  at  me  wildly,  without 
speaking,  and  I  began  to  suspect  that  he  was 
inventing  some  fable. 

"Speak!  "  I  said  sharply;  "you  cannot  have 
a  moment  longer.  Where  is  Mademoiselle 
Ramodanof sky  ? " 

"  Ah,  that  is  just  what  I  cannot  tell,  and  you 
will  kill  me !  "  he  wailed  so  abjectly  that  I 
began  to  believe  that  he  really  could  not 
enlighten  me.  "  I  only  know  that  the  Boyar 
Vladimir  had  her  taken  away  from  Dr.  von 
Gaden's  house." 

"Taken  whither?"  I  demanded  fiercely;  "a 
lie  will  not  save  you." 

"I  know  no  more,"  he  protested  wildly;  "if 
you  torture  me,  you  can  learn  no  more. " 

I  looked  at  him  coldly.  "Perhaps,"  I  said, 
"you  can  tell  me  more  about  the  mode  in  which 
Vladimir  Sergheievitch  learned  that  mademoi- 
selle, his  niece,  was  at  Von  Gaden's  house  at 
all." 


POLOTSKY.  225 

He  shrank  back,  and  looked  at  me  like  a 
hunted  beast. 

"You  dogged  my  footsteps,"  I  went  on 
harshly;  "you  tracked  mademoiselle  and  her 
companion  to  the  doctor's  house  and  betrayed 
them,  and  now  you  ask  mercy  of  me  with  a  lie 
in  your  mouth  ! " 

"  It  is  not  a  lie !  "  he  cried,  thoroughly  cowed. 
"  It  is  the  truth,  by  our  Lady  of  Kazan  !  I  do 
not  know  —  but  I  can  tell  you  of  one  who  does, " 
he  added,  a  gleam  of  hope  showing  in  his  eyes 
as  he  realized  that  he  had  not  yet  played  his 
last  card  and  lost. 

"Tell  me  the  name  at  once,"  I  said  sternly; 
"every  minute's  delay  will  cost  you  dear!" 

"Be  merciful  to  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  the 
truth ;  I  can  do  no  more ! "  he  protested  piti- 
fully. 

"  Be  quick  !  "  I  cried  angrily. 

"My  master  and  Viatscheslav  Naryshkin 
were  obliged  to  be  in  attendance  at  the  palace," 
Polotsky  said,  "and  a  dwarf  whom  they 
trust  —  " 

"  Homyak !  "  I  exclaimed  at  once. 

"Yes,  Homyak,"  he  admitted.  "He  was  in- 
trusted with  the  mission;  he  was  to  get  Zenaide 
Feodorovna  and  her  governess  out  of  the  house 
and  take  them  to  some  place  where  yonder 
15 


226  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

boyar  —  "  he  pointed  to  the  door  which  sepa- 
rated us  from  Feodor  Ramodanofsky,  "  could  not 
find  her." 

"  Where  is  that  place  ?  "  I  demanded  fiercely, 
glancing  at  the  poker  as  it  lay  amid  the  coals. 
His  eyes  followed  mine,  and  I  saw  him  cringe. 

"Master,  I  do  not  know!"  he  protested 
wildly.  "But  Homyak  can  tell  you  all;  catch 
him." 

And  he  adhered  to  this,  although  I  pressed 
him  close,  until  I  was  satisfied  that  he  had 
really  told  all  he  knew.  Then,  going  out,  I 
closed  the  door  and  bade  Pierrot  guard  the 
prisoner  strictly;  I  was  determined  that  he 
should  not  be  tortured  to  death  in  my  house, 
and  I  saw  Michael  lurking  in  the  hall  like  a 
wild  beast  robbed  of  his  prey.  Joining  Ramo- 
danofsky and  Von  Gaden,  I  told  them  of  Polot- 
sky's  confession,  and  my  conviction  that  he  was 
telling  all  the  truth.  The  Jew  believed  it;  but 
I  saw  that  the  boyar  was  dissatisfied,  although 
he  had  the  courtesy  to  accept  my  statement  as 
final.  A  brief  consultation  followed,  all  our 
minds  concentrating  on  the  one  object, — to 
liberate  Zenai'de. 

"Homyak  was  at  the  palace  this  morning,"  I 
said,  "and  we  must  get  hold  of  him  at  once, 
and  compel  him  to  guide  us  to  the  house." 


POLOTSKY.  227 

"That  is  impossible,"  rejoined  Von  Gaden, 
quietly.  "  I  know  that  Homyak  was  despatched 
by  the  Czarina  Natalia  herself  on  an  errand 
that  will  carry  him  to  Troitsa.  In  the  mean 
time,  Zenaide  will  be  forced  to  wed  Viat- 
scheslav." 

Ramodanofsky  clenched  his  hands. 

"Never!"  he  ejaculated  fiercely;  "I  will  go 
at  once  to  Vladimir  and  force  him  to  surrender 
her  to  her  father. " 

Von  Gaden  plucked  his  robe.  "You  cannot 
do  it,  boyar,"  he  said  calmly;  "it  will  ruin 
every  well-laid  plan  to  move  now.  The  czar- 
ina will  support  Viatscheslav,  and  this  is  the 
hour  when  Sophia  Alexeievna  can  do  least  for 
you.  If  you  go  to  Vladimir's  house,  you  will 
risk  your  own  life,  and  then  the  wretched  fate 
of  your  daughter  will  be  assured.  Listen  to 
reason,  my  old  friend ;  we  must  find  some  other 
way." 

I  had  stood  a  little  aside  to  let  them  talk; 
but  now  I  turned  to  the  boyar  and  found  his 
stern  eyes  already  on  my  face. 

"M.  Ramodanofsky,"  I  said  quietly,  "per- 
mit me  to  undertake  this  service  for  you.  I 
will  go  direct  to  the  boyar' s  house,  and  he 
will  scarcely  refuse  admittance.  I  can  demand, 
in  your  name,  to  be  informed  of  your  daughter's 


228  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

fate,  and  if  it  is  not  told  voluntarily,  mayhap 
I  can  force  it  from  him." 

Feodor  Sergheievitch  did  not  immediately 
reply;  but  I  saw  that  Von  Gaden  approved  my 
proposal. 

"It  is  the  plan  most  likely  to  succeed,"  he 
said  thoughtfully,  "and  in  any  case,  you  will 
probably  learn  something." 

"M.  le  Vicomte, "  the  boyar  said,  turning  to 
me  with  a  dignity  which  became  him  well,  "  I 
am  beholden  to  you,  and  it  seems  that  it  is  best 
to  accept  your  services.  You  understand  the 
risk  you  take  for  a  stranger?"  he  added,  his 
keen  eye  searching  my  face. 

I  felt  the  blood  burn  on  my  cheek,  but  I 
spoke  plainly;  it  was  well  to  have  an  under- 
standing between  us.  "M.  Ramodanof sky, "  I 
said  deliberately,  "while  I  am  glad  to  be  of 
service  to  you  in  your  hour  of  need,  it  is  for 
the  sake  of  Mademoiselle  Ze"naYde  that  I  assume 
this  peril,  and  I  am  willing  to  abide  by  the 
consequences." 

For  a  moment  he  was  startled  by  the  candor 
of  my  reply,  and  then  I  saw  something  like  a 
smile  in  his  cold  eyes. 

"  She  will  perhaps  be  able  to  thank  you  more 
effectively  than  I  can,"  he  said  quietly;  "but 
remember,  M.  le  Vicomte,  that  very  soon  I 


POLOTSK  Y.  229 

shall  declare  myself,  and  she  will  be  no  longer 
considered  as  the  heiress  of  the  wealthy  Vladi- 
mir, but  the  daughter  of  a  prisoner  and  an  exile, 
without  title  or  dowry  —  all  forfeited  to  the 
crown. " 

I  made  an  obeisance.  "M.  Ramodanofsky, " 
I  said,  "  Mademoiselle  Z6na"ide  will  ever  re- 
main the  same,  and  were  she  the  daughter  of 
the  poorest  convict  in  Russia,  she  would  still 
hold  the  same  place  in  the  regard  of  Philippe 
de  Brousson. " 

The  cloud  lifted  from  his  face,  and  he  held 
out  his  hand  with  a  gesture  that  revealed  the 
courtly  grace  which  must  have  been  his  before 
the  years  of  exile  dwarfed  and  thwarted  every 
natural  impulse. 

"I  thank  you,  M.  le  Vicomte, "  he  said,  with 
a  grand  air;  "Zena'ide  has  at  least  one  friend 
in  her  extremity." 

As  our  hands  met,  I  felt  a  warmer  regard  for 
the  man  than  ever  before.  The  fact  that  he  was 
Zenalde's  father  was  borne  in  upon  me,  and  I 
carried  away  with  me  the  memory  of  that 
strange  illumination  of  the  stern  face.  We 
left  him  at  my  quarters  to  await  my  return, 
Von  Gaden  walking  with  me  towards  Vladimir's 
house. 

"So,  M.  le  Docteur,"  I  said,  "you  knew  the 


230  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

Boyar  Feodor  on  that  night  when  we  rescued 
him  from  Polotsky's  midnight  assault." 

Von  Gaden  smiled.  "  I  recognized  him  at 
once,"  he  replied;  "his  face  has  changed,  but 
I  should  have  known  him  anywhere ;  those  eyes 
and  that  mouth  cannot  be  forgotten ;  moreover, 
I  knew  the  scar. " 

"  From  the  blow  dealt  by  his  brother,  I  sup- 
pose," I  said  quietly. 

"  Yes ;  it  is  an  ugly  cut,  and  it  has  disfigured 
a  face  once  handsome,  even  in  its  rugged 
strength.  I  knew  him,  but  he  warned  me  by  a 
glance  to  be  silent,  and  since  then  he  has  been 
maturing  his  own  schemes,  and  has  not,  it  seems 
to  me,  been  deeply  concerned  about  Zena'Me 
until  this  last  emergency. " 

"Perhaps  he  has  not  a  deep  paternal  feel- 
ing," I  remarked;  "his  years  of  absence  and 
of  suffering  might  easily  make  a  difference." 

"Undoubtedly  they  have,"  Von  Gaden  re- 
plied. "  Zenai'de  is  a  stranger  to  him,  and,  at 
his  best,  Ramodanofsky  was  a  man  of  iron 
mold;  there  is  not  much  room  for  tenderness 
in  a  soul  like  his.  But  he  is  roused  now,  and 
resents  fiercely  his  brother's  effort  to  thwart 
him  by  marrying  his  daughter  to  one  of  his 
bitter  foes." 

"Vladimir  is  aware  of  his  presence  here,"  I 


POLOTSKY.  231 

said,  recollecting  the  boyar's  face  at  the  czar's 
funeral,  when  he  saw  his  brother  in  the  crowd. 

"Ay,  he  prompted  Polotsky's  attempt  to 
murder  Feodor;  his  is  the  master  hand;  all 
these  crimes  are  his,  the  other  men  are  but  his 
tools." 

"  I  could  never  understand  Lykof,  as  he  called 
himself,"  I  said  thoughtfully;  "but  tell  me  why 
he  has  identified  himself  with  the  Streltsi,  who 
hate  the  boyars  ?  " 

"  Feodor  Sergheievitch  has  suffered  much  at 
the  hands  of  his  own  class,"  Von  Gaden  replied 
quietly.  "  He  has  a  faithful  follower  in  one  of 
the  regiments  of  the  Streltsi,  and  he  has  as- 
sumed that  disguise  for  safety,  and  also,  I 
think,  to  gain  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
schemes  on  foot.  He  hopes  much  from  the 
Miloslavskys,  —  more  than  I  do.  Prince  Galit- 
syn  is  his  friend;  but  in  these  days,  no  man 
can  feel  his  future  a  certainty." 

"Right  and  justice  are  on  his  side,"  I  re- 
marked, musingly. 

Von  Gaden  smiled.  "  Right  is  on  the  side  of 
the  blind  czarevitch,  and  yet  what  would  Russia 
do  with  such  a  ruler  ?  She  would  be  doomed 
to  an  indefinite  regency,  to  intrigues,  strife, 
division.  It  is  not  always  right,  M.  le  Vicomte, 
but  might  which  conquers." 


232  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"You  are  a  Naryshkin  partisan,"  I  said 
lightly;  "  Russia  might  do  worse  than  leave  her 
destiny  in  the  hands  of  a  wise  regent  —  " 

"You  mean  the  Czarevna  Sophia,"  interposed 
Von  Gaden.  He  stopped  short  and  confronted 
me.  We  were  in  one  of  the  narrow,  tortuous 
streets;  it  was  mid-day,  but  all  was  quiet;  the 
life  and  business  of  the  city  was  not  in  this 
quarter.  The  Jew's  thoughtful  face  was  marked 
with  unusual  emotion. 

"M.  de  Brousson,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice, 
pointing  his  long  finger  at  the  Kremlin,  "  it 
will  avail  nothing  to  advance  that  ambitious 
woman.  It  will  avail  nothing  to  set  aside  the 
czarina  dowager,  to  crush  the  Naryshkins,  to 
excite  the  Streltsi,  and  appeal  to  every  pas- 
sion of  the  rabble.  The  future  ruler  of  the 
empire  is  yonder:  a  boy  now,  little  considered 
and  set  aside,  but  the  ruler  born,  and  every  inch 
a  czar.  I  know  the  lad,  I  can  read  destiny  in 
his  eye ;  unless  the  hand  of  an  assassin  strike 
down  that  young  life,  this  distracted  country 
will  see  in  him  the  dawn  of  a  new  power.  You 
have  the  grand  monarch;  but  not  even  your 
great  Louis  will  be  greater  than  Peter  Alexei- 
vitch." 

Looking  back  now,  after  forty  years,  upon  that 
scene,  I  see  again  the  Jew's  face  as  he  uttered 


POLOTSKY.  233 

his  prophecy,  received  by  me  then  as  the  vagary 
of  an  excitable  and  dreamy  man,  but  remem- 
bered in  later  years  as  the  first  proclamation 
of  Peter  the  Great.  His  outburst  over,  Von 
Gaden  walked  beside  me  dreamily. 

"The city  is  more  quiet,"  I  remarked,  "since 
fazpravesh;  the  Streltsi  seem  to  be  satisfied." 

He  shook  his  head  with  an  air  of  gloom  which 
reminded  me  of  Pierrot. 

"  It  is  the  calm  before  the  storm,"  he  replied. 
"Every  one  is  calling  on  Matveief  and  bringing 
him  presents;  but  his  son  has  said  that  it  is 
'  sweet  money  on  a  sharp  knife,'  and  that  is  the 
truth,  although  it  is  unwise  for  him  to  say  it, 
but  young  blood  is  hot." 

We  were  now  approaching  the  Ramodanofsky 
house,  and  I  looked  at  the  gloomy  exterior  with 
a  new  sensation;  how  soon  would  it  receive  its 
true  master?  Von  Gaden 's  thoughts  were  now 
more  practical. 

"You  must  be  cautious,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he 
said;  "although  I  feel  assured  that  Vladimir 
will  not  offer  open  violence  on  account  of  your 
station,  and  the  estimation  in  which  you  are 
held  in  high  places.  Secret  attacks  are  in  his 
line,  and  Feodor  tells  me  he  has  already  warned 
you.  Vladimir  will  be  aware  that  your  coming 
is  known,  and  will  scarcely  take  violent  meas- 


234  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ures;  but  beware  of  him,  he  is  a  desperate  and 
a  relentless  man ;  more  smooth  and  courtly 
than  his  brother,  but  the  deeper  traitor." 

I  touched  my  sword.  "  I  have  a  friend  with 
me,"  I  said  quietly;  "but  I  anticipate  no 
trouble,  beyond  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  any 
satisfaction." 

"We  cannot  tell,"  Von  Gaden  replied;  "but 
for  Ze'naide's  sake  be  cautious.  I  do  not  myself 
believe  that  he  will  attempt  to  do  anything 
until  he  finds  out  what  his  brother  intends  to 
do,  and  I  fear  no  injury  to  the  young  girl ;  it 
would  profit  him  nothing,  and  would  bring 
down  the  wrath  of  the  czarina  upon  him.  He 
is  far  too  adroit  and  diplomatic  to  ruin  his  own 
game.  But  be  cautious,  M.  le  Vicomte,  be 
cautious ! " 

And  with  this  warning  in  my  ears,  I  left 
him,  and  passing  on,  entered  the  courtyard 
gates  and  stood  before  the  boyar's  door. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A   FRIENDLY   CUP. 

I  HAD  repeated  my  summons  twice  before 
it  was  answered  by  a  solemn-looking  servant, 
who  hesitated  before  admitting  me.  But  I 
assumed  an  air  of  authority,  and  that,  with 
my  foreign  title,  seemed  to  have  weight,  for 
he  finally  conducted  me  into  the  large  room, 
through  the  window  of  which  I  had  witnessed 
Ramodan  of  sky's  consultation  with  Viatsches- 
lav;  and  I  could  scarcely  forbear  a  smile  when 
I  thought  of  the  irregular  manner  in  which  I 
had  first  gained  my  knowledge  of  the  interior  of 
this  house.  The  apartment  in  which  I  stood 
was  singularly  gloomy,  although  furnished  with 
considerable  luxury  and  refinement.  There 
were  indications  of  the  time  when  Zenai'de's 
mother  had  been  brought  home  a  bride.  Here 
was  a  cabinet  that  I  recognized  at  once  as 
French,  and  a  clock,  and  especially  a  long, 
narrow  mirror  opposite,  which  reflected  the 
gloomy  interior,  the  rich  hangings,  and  the 


236  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

polished  table  in  the  center  of  the  room.  Be- 
side this  table  stood  a  large  carved  chair,  which 
was,  I  fancied,  the  boyar's  favorite  seat.  It 
seemed  as  if  not  even  a  rare  ray  of  Russian  sun- 
light penetrated  here;  somber,  rich,  forbidding, 
it  was  a  spot  that  neither  suggested  nor  encour- 
aged hospitality. 

I  had  waited  only  a  few  moments,  when  a  low 
door  at  the  further  end  of  the  room  was  opened, 
and  Vladimir  Sergheievitch  advanced  towards 
me.  He  had  a  dignity  and  grace  of  bearing  that 
suggested  a  painful  contrast  to  the  more  heroic 
brother;  this  man  had  profited  by  his  life  at 
court  and  his  stolen  wealth.  He  had,  too,  a 
repose  of  manner  that  showed  a  far  greater 
amount  of  self-control  than  Feodor  possessed. 
I  saw  also  a  resemblance  in  the  two  faces,  al- 
though Vladimir's  eyes  were  more  restless  and 
uncertain,  his  lips  thinner  and  more  bloodless, 
and  the  peculiarity  of  his  black,  pointed  eye- 
brows did  not  mar  the  nobility  of  the  elder 
boyar's  wide  forehead.  Now,  as  he  came 
towards  me  with  a  scowl  over  his  eyes,  his  black 
brows  struck  down  sharply  to  the  bridge  of  his 
nose  in  two  oblique  lines.  An  evil  face  and  a 
sinister  eye!  He  responded  to  my  salutation 
easily,  and  asked  me  to  be  seated  as  calmly  as 
if  he  had  never  played  a  part  in  my  imprison- 


A   FRIENDLY  CUP.  237 

ment,  and  was  not  an  accessory  to  Viatscheslav's 
insolence  at  the  palace.  I  debated  in  my  mind 
whether  it  was  best  to  begin  the  interview  in  a 
hostile  manner  or  not,  and  after  a  moment's 
reflection,  accepted  the  chair  that  he  had  indi- 
cated. He  opened  the  conversation  with  perfect 
composure. 

"To  what  am  I  indebted  for  the  honor  of 
this  visit,  M.  le  Vicomte?"  he  asked  quietly, 
a  gleam  of  sinister  amusement  showing  in  his 
eyes. 

"I  have  a  mission  to  perform,  monsieur,"  I 
replied,  "otherwise  —  " 

"You  would  not  have  come,"  he  interrupted 
with  a  sardonic  smile.  "I  assumed  as  much. 
However,  we  will  waive  all  that,  and  proceed  to 
business." 

I  bowed  formally.  "I  should  be  glad,"  I 
said,  "to  conclude  it  as  speedily  as  possible.  I 
am  commissioned  by  the  Boyar  Feodor  Sergh- 
eievitch  Ramodanofsky  to  inquire  of  you  the 
present  residence  of  his  daughter." 

I  paused  to  note  the  effect  of  my  words,  but 
there  was  absolutely  none,  although  I  had  no 
doubt  that  he  was  surprised  that  his  brother 
had  thrown  aside  his  disguise.  He  sat  looking 
at  me  with  an  expression  of  sinister  amusement 
still  on  his  face,  and  twirling  his  moustache 


238  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

with  his  long,  tapering  fingers.  I  saw  that  I 
should  be  compelled  to  take  the  aggressive. 

"You  are  doubtless  prepared,  monsieur,"  I 
said,  "to  furnish  an  account  of  your  guardian- 
ship of  Mademoiselle  Ramodanofsky  to  her 
father,  and  to  surrender  the  young  lady  to  his 
protection." 

Vladimir  smiled,  measuring  me  with  a  glance 
which  was  peculiarly  exasperating. 

"  I  am  entirely  unprepared  for  your  visit, 
M.  de  Brousson,"  he  said  calmly;  "singularly 
so,  in  fact,  since  the  person  from  whom  you  say 
you  come  has  been  dead  fifteen  years.  It  is 
the  first  time  that  I  have  ever  received  an  envoy 
from  a  ghost,  and  I  find  it,  M.  le  Vicomte, 
rather  amusing." 

"This  is  idle,  M.  Ramodanofsky,"  I  ex- 
claimed impatiently;  "you  have  more  reason 
than  any  one  to  know  that  the  boyar  is  not 
dead.  It  would  be  more  rational  to  meet  me  on 
the  ground  of  common  sense  than  to  fence  with 
such  an  absurd  declaration." 

"My  view  and  yours  are  naturally  different, 
M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  replied  with  admirable 
composure.  "As  you  remark,  I  have  more 
reason  than  any  one  to  know  that  my  half 
brother  is  dead.  You  have  been  deceived  by 
an  impostor;  you  will  find  it  difficult,  however, 


A   FRIENDLY  CUP.  239 

to  convince  any  one  else  that  the  official  dead 
in  Russia  rise  so  quickly." 

I  looked  at  his  calmly  sneering  face  with  a 
sensation  of  baffled  rage.  It  was  a  simple  mat- 
ter for  him  to  assume  this  position,  and  I  did 
not  know  how  easily  he  might  sustain  it. 

"Nevertheless,  I  believe  that  there  is  occa- 
sionally a  chance  of  reviving  the  official  dead, 
and  a  train  of  unpleasant  circumstances  also, 
M.  Ramodanofsky, "  I  said  deliberately,  meet- 
ing his  eyes. 

"  There  is  generally  some  personal  risk  about 
such  resurrections,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  replied 
composedly;  "and  I  might  remark  further,  that 
this  is  a  specially  unfavorable  season  for  such 
operations." 

His  manner  was  exasperating  me  to  a  point 
where  I  knew  that  I  was  likely  to  allow  my 
anger  to  get  the  better  of  my  discretion.  I 
rose  from  my  chair,  and  stood  confronting 
him. 

"All  this  is  foreign  to  my  mission,  mon- 
sieur," I  said  with  what  temper  I  could  com- 
mand. "  Feodor  Sergheievitch  is  as  much  alive 
as  you  are,  and  demands  his  daughter  at  your 
hands.  It  is  a  simple  matter  for  you  to  give  me 
the  desired  information,  and  time  presses." 

Vladimir  laughed  softly  to  himself,  a  laugh 


240  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

that  did  not  show  in  his  eyes  or  relax  the 
expression  of  his  face. 

"A  very  simple  matter,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he 
replied  quietly;  "but  you  forget  that  Mademoi- 
selle Z6na'ide  is  betrothed  to  the  cousin  of  the 
czar,  and  it  is  possible  that  there  may  be  a 
good  deal  to  say  about  surrendering  her  to  an 
impostor.  It  is  not  probable  that  you  really 
believe  that  my  brother,  the  saints  rest  his 
soul!  is  alive  and  in  Moscow?" 

Fortunately,  the  answer  that  was  on  my  lips 
was  checked  by  the  entrance  of  a  serf  bringing 
the  inevitable  vodka  and  caviare  that  were 
always  served  to  every  guest  in  a  Russian 
house,  and  the  fact  that  I  was  an  unwelcome 
one  did  not  prevent  the  usual  courtesy  being 
tendered  to  me.  The  serf,  placing  the  refresh- 
ments on  the  table  and  filling  the  cups,  with- 
drew. The  boyar  invited  me  to  partake,  but  at 
the  moment  I  had  no  thought  of  accepting  his 
hospitality. 

"  Of  course  I  know  that  you  are  aware  of  your 
brother's  presence  in  Moscow,  M.  Ramodanof- 
sky,"  I  said  haughtily,  "and  it  seems  to  me 
wiser  for  you  to  acknowledge  his  authority 
over  his  own  daughter.  You  know  him  well 
enough  to  understand  that  he  will  tolerate  no 
interference  with  his  rights,  and  he  demands 


A   FRIENDLY  CUP.  241 

that  you  surrender  Mademoiselle  Ramodanofsky 
into  his  hands.  Your  steward  Polotsky  is  in 
his  custody,  and  has  confessed  enough  to  make 
the  rest  easy." 

For  the  first  time,  I  saw  a  change,  sharp  and 
sudden,  in  that  inscrutable  face;  whatever  the 
steward  knew,  it  was  too  much  for  the  master's 
peace  of  mind.  I  could  see  the  contending 
emotions  in  those  cruel,  narrow  eyes,  the  con- 
traction of  the  bloodless  lips.  I  waited,  seeing 
that  he  was  hesitating  over  some  new  move.  In 
a  moment  he  rose,  and  going  to  the  French 
cabinet,  fumbled  at  the  drawers.  I  walked 
away  across  the  room  and  waited,  willing  to 
give  him  a  little  grace.  There  was  something 
about  the  man  which  held  my  interest,  and 
stayed  my  anger;  was  it  the  courage  of  despair? 
Without  a  word,  he  came  back  from  the  cabinet 
with  some  papers  in  his  hands  and  stood  turn- 
ing them  over  by  the  table;  what  revelation 
did  he  contemplate?  My  curiosity  being 
roused,  I  watched  him,  feigning  all  the  while 
to  look  out  of  the  window  into  the  court ;  but 
from  where  I  was,  I  could  cast  a  sidelong  glance 
into  the  French  mirror,  and  see  him  as  he  stood 
there  in  his  dark,  rich  dress  with  the  lace 
ruffles  at  his  throat  and  hands,  the  gold  of  the 
Oriental  embroidery  on  his  robe  making  fan- 
•  16 


242  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

tastic  arabesques  upon  the  purple  velvet,  and 
his  white  face  standing  out  against  the  somber 
background;  a  forbidding  picture,  yet  not  with- 
out a  certain  majestic  dignity  and  power. 
While  I  watched,  I  saw  him  bend  over  the 
cups  of  vodka,  a  swift  movement  followed  by 
instant  repose.  Then  he  turned  his  face 
towards  me. 

"Be  seated,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said,  "and 
we  will  talk  this  matter  over." 

I  approached  the  table  and  inclined  my  head 
as  he  pushed  the  cup  of  vodka  towards  me. 

"  You  have  neglected  to  fasten  your  cabinet 
door,  monsieur,"  I  said  carelessly,  "and  the 
papers  are  falling  out." 

He  turned  his  head  quickly,  and  seeing  the 
door  pushed  open  by  the  protruding  papers,  he 
stepped  back  and  closed  it.  In  that  moment  I 
changed  the  cups.  He  heard  the  click  and 
glanced  around  sharply,  but  I  was  merely  tap- 
ping the  table  with  my  finger. 

"  I  am  waiting  your  pleasure,  M.  Ramo- 
danofsky,"  I  said,  as  he  returned  to  his  place; 
"a  word  of  explanation,  and  this  interview  is 
closed  with  equal  relief  to  both." 

"We  will  drink  first,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he 
replied  with  cold  courtesy  of  manner,  raising 
his  cup  and  watching  me  narrowly. 


A   FRIENDLY  CUP.  24$ 

Without  hesitation  I  raised  mine  and  drank. 
He  drained  his,  and  setting  the  cup  aside, 
turned  to  me,  his  hand  resting  easily  on  the 
papers  at  his  side. 

"M.  de  Brousson,"  he  said,  with  a  sudden 
grace  of  manner,  "I  am  not  ignorant  of  the 
cause  of  your  interest  in  my  ward.  I  was  also 
of  your  age  once,  and  I  understand  it,"  he 
added  with  a  smile  which  struck  me  as  diaboli- 
cal; "but  you  are  making  a  mistake  to  waste 
time  with  my  brother;  he  is  as  good  as  dead, 
and  the  party  in  power  will  never  recognize 
him.  Zena'fde  is  my  ward;  you  should  con- 
ciliate me." 

I  watched  him  keenly;  what  new  game  was 
this?  And  what  was  the  change  which  was 
coming  over  his  face?  Always  pale,  it  was 
livid  now,  and  the  lips  were  purple.  I  saw  his 
hands  shaking  like  an  old  man's,  and  he  began 
himself  to  stare  at  them,  a  kind  of  horror  grow- 
ing in  his  eyes  until  his  whole  expression 
changed;  the  smiling  mask  dropped,  and  I 
saw,  instead,  the  face  of  a  demon,  every  devil- 
ish passion  contending  with  the  abject  fear 
that  I  had  seen  in  Polotsky's,  and  the  cords  in 
his  throat  stood  out. 

"I  am  ill!"  he  cried  thickly;  "call  for  help 
—  or  I  shall  choke  —  water ! " 


244  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

It  was  his  last  word;  he  fell  down  on  his 
chair,  his  whole  figure  writhing  in  the  convul- 
sion that  choked  his  utterance.  There  was  a 
small  pitcher  of  water  at  hand,  and  I  dashed 
some  on  his  face,  and  loosened  the  collar  that 
he  was  tearing  with  his  fingers.  I  had  seen 
death  too  often  not  to  recognize  it;  even  while 
I  knelt  beside  him,  I  saw  his  eyes  grow  fixed 
and  his  jaw  fall.  He  was  dead  in  three  min- 
utes after  the  first  paroxysm,  and  I  laid  him  on 
the  floor  and  straightened  his  limbs. 

My  impulse  to  call  for  help  was  checked  by 
prudence,  and  by  a  sudden  inspiration  too. 
Looking  in  the  cup,  I  saw  some  dregs,  and  was 
not  slow  to  draw  my  own  conclusions.  For  a 
few  moments  I  stood  looking  at  the  body;  his 
face  was  still  distorted,  and  there  was  no  beauty 
of  repose  about  the  features,  and  the  dignity 
that  had  clothed  his  figure  in  a  false  nobility 
was  destroyed  forever  by  that  great  leveller  of 
humanity.  I  shuddered,  seeing  the  fate  he 
had  so  quickly  planned  for  me.  The  horror  of 
such  a  corpse  made  the  place  a  nightmare  to 
me.  I  threw  his  handkerchief  over  his  face, 
and  locking  the  door  into  the  main  hall  to  delay 
the  discovery  of  the  body,  I  went  out  by  the  low 
door  by  which  he  had  entered,  and  securing 
that,  put  the  key  in  my  pocket,  so  constituting 


A   FRIENDLY  CUP.  24$ 

myself  his  jailer,  as  he  had  once  been  mine,  and 
shutting  the  secret  from  the  world.  Once  out 
of  the  place,  I  stopped  an  instant  to  reflect  upon 
my  next  step.  I  found  myself  in  a  small  ante- 
room, silent  and  deserted,  and  through  the  open 
door  opposite,  I  saw  another  room  beyond. 


CHAPTER   XXL 

THE   PRISONER. 

I  DETERMINED  to  search  the  house,  and  assure 
myself  that  Zena'fde  was  not  incarcerated  in 
any  part  of  it.  All  possibility  of  obtaining  in- 
formation from  Ramodanofsky  was  at  an  end 
forever,  but  I  had  now  the  opportunity  to  ex- 
amine the  premises.  Passing  through  the  ante- 
rooms, I  entered  a  large  apartment  which  had 
evidently  been  his  bedroom,  and  which  showed 
signs  of  recent  occupation.  On  a  small  table 
beside  the  bed  lay  a  bunch  of  keys,  and  these 
I  appropriated.  Opening  a  small  door  behind 
the  high  bedstead,  I  found  myself  in  a  long 
corridor,  which  seemed  to  lead  in  the  direction 
of  the  kitchen,  with  several  doors  opening  upon 
it.  I  was  impressed  by  the  silence  of  the 
place ;  not  a  sound  reached  my  ears.  I  walked 
along,  trying  the  doors ;  two  opened  into  a  large 
banquet  ing-room,  and  a  third  upon  a  short  pas- 
sage which  I  knew  must  lead  towards  the  wing. 
I  mended  my  pace  now,  and  going  down  this 


THE  PRISONER.  24? 

hall,  came  into  the  rooms  below  Zenafde's, 
already  familiar  to  me;  they  were  all  vacant, 
and  I  ascended  the  stairs,  not  without  a  thought 
of  that  first  night  when  I  had  stumbled  up  those 
steps  and  found  Zenai'de.  But  this  time  her 
rooms  were  deserted  and  dreary.  I  searched 
every  corner  of  this  wing,  even  the  place  where 
I  h?xl  formerly  been  confined,  but  without 
result;  it  looked  the  same  in  every  spot  as  it 
had  on  the  evening  on  which  I  had  taken  the 
two  women  away,  —  only,  as  it  had  proved,  to 
lead  them  into  further  disaster.  Satisfied  that 
there  was  no  clew  here,  I  came  slowly  down  the 
stairs ;  near  the  foot  a  sound  in  the  hall  roused 
me,  and  I  looked  about  just  in  time  to  see  a  man 
trying  to  avoid  me.  He  was  one  of  the  serfs, 
and  I  spoke  to  him  in  Russian;  he  stopped  in 
a  startled  way,  and  stared  at  me  as  if  uncertain 
what  to  do.  I  was  determined  to  carry  things 
with  a  high  hand. 

"  Your  master  wishes  me  to  see  Mademoiselle 
Zenaide,"  I  said  sharply,  "and  you  can  conduct 
me  to  her." 

The  fellow  stared  at  me  more  stupidly  than 
before. 

"Do  you  hear  me,  sirrah?"  I  exclaimed  im- 
patiently. "  It  will  not  be  well  for  you  to  delay 
obedience  to  a  Ramodanof sky. " 


248  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

He  evidently  knew  this,  for  he  roused 
himself. 

"  I  will  go  willingly,  master, "  he  said  humbly. 
"  when  the  boyar  tells  me  the  way.  I  do  not 
know  where  the  young  lady  is." 

His  sincerity  was  too  obvious  to  doubt,  and 
I  saw  at  once  that  I  was  face  to  face  with  a  new 
difficulty.  I  determined,  however,  to  probe 
him. 

"If  you  do  not  know  where  Mademoiselle 
Ramodanofsky  is,"  I  said  sharply,  "perhaps 
you  can  take  me  to  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie. " 

His  face  brightened  at  once. 

"Oh,  yes,  your  excellency,  I  can  do  that !  "  he 
exclaimed  in  a  relieved  tone. 

It  was  my  turn  to  be  surprised  now,  but  I 
followed  up  my  advantage  at  once. 

"  Take  me  to  her,  then  !  "  I  cried  harshly. 

"Follow  me,  master,"  he  said  quietly,  and 
to  my  surprise  turned  back  into  the  main  part 
of  the  house. 

The  thought  that  he  might  be  trying  to 
entrap  me  made  me  draw  and  cock  my  pistol  as 
I  followed  close  at  his  heels.  He  conducted 
me  past  the  boyar 's  rooms  to  a  dark,  narrow 
stone  stair,  leading  down,  as  I  concluded,  to  the 
cellars.  I  did  not  like  the  appearance  of  it, 
but  reflected  that  my  archenemy  was  stiff  and 


THE  PRISONER.  249 

stark,  and  this  man  seemed  nothing  more  than 
an  ignorant  servant.  He  did  not  stop  to  see  if 
I  followed,  and  was  already  halfway  down  the 
steps  when  I  began  the  descent,  feeling  my  way 
cautiously,  and  keeping  my  weapon  ready  as 
I  went.  Having  reached  the  lower  floor,  he 
led  me  through  a  tortuous  passage  in  the  dark 
and  damp  cellars,  pausing  at  last  before  a 
heavy  door. 

"She  is  here,"  he  said,  pointing  at  it  with 
his  finger. 

"  Open  it,  you  knave ! "  I  said  sharply. 

"  Where  is  the  key  ?  "  he  retorted  sullenly. 

For  the  moment  I  could  almost  have  laughed 
in  the  bitterness  of  my  chagrin  at  my  own 
folly,  and  then  thinking  of  the  boyar's  keys,  I 
drew  out  the  bunch  and  began  to  fumble  with 
them. 

"That  is  the  key,"  he  said,  indicating  a  large 
one;  and  as  I  loosened  it  from  the  others  he 
put  it  in  the  lock,  and  in  a  moment  the  heavy 
door  stood  open,  revealing  a  small  room  dimly 
lighted  by  the  lantern  swinging  from  a  chain 
in  the  center  of  the  ceiling. 

Taking  the  precaution  to  remove  the  key  from 
the  lock,  I  walked  in  without  ceremony.  For 
a  moment  I  thought  that  I  had  been  duped, 
for  the  cell  was  empty ;  then  I  saw  that  it  had 


250  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

another  door,  which  stood  ajar,  and  I  struck  the 
hilt  of  my  sword  upon  it  with  a  blow  that  made 
an  echo  in  the  gloomy  place.  Instantly  there 
was  a  sound  in  the  inner  room,  and  Mademoi- 
selle Eudoxie's  startled  face  appeared  at  the 
door.  At  the  sight  of  me,  she  uttered  a  plain- 
tive shriek  and  fell  fainting  in  my  arms.  Curs- 
ing my  luck  and  her  folly,  I  carried  her  into 
the  other  cell  and  laid  her  on  the  rough  couch 
there.  Finding  some  water,  I  dashed  it  liber- 
ally in  her  face,  and  was  relieved  to  see  signs  of 
recovery.  My  conscience  reproached  me  for 
my  anger,  too,  when  I  saw  how  white  and  mis- 
erable she  looked,  like  a  woman  who  had 
endured  much ;  even  her  wiry  little  curls  hung 
limp  and  dishevelled.  She  recovered  almost 
as  quickly  as  she  had  fainted,  and  when  fully 
conscious,  clung  to  my  hand  with  feverish 
energy. 

"  How  did  you  find  me  ?  "  she  moaned.  "  I 
had  given  up  all  hope,  and  expected  to  die  here 
in  the  cellar,  if  that  awful  man  did  not  kill  me 
outright.  And  oh,  tell  me !  where  is  Z6naide  ?  " 

"That  is  the  question  that  I  was  about  to  put 
to  you,  mademoiselle,"  I  replied  gloomily;  "I 
hoped  devoutly  that  you  could  tell  me  where  to 
find  her." 

"Alas!"  she  cried,  looking  at  me  with  new 


THE  PRISONER.  2$1 

anxiety,  "  I  have  not  seen  her  since  we  were  so 
roughly  parted,  and  I  have  constantly  hoped 
that  she  escaped." 

She  was  quivering  all  over  with  nervous 
excitement,  and  I  saw  that  I  must  be  patient 
with  her.  I  sat  down  beside  her. 

"Come,  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  as  gently  as 
if  she  had  been  a  child,  "tell  me  as  clearly  as 
you  can  all  that  happened  after  I  left  you  at 
Von  Gaden's  house.  Only  in  this  way  can  you 
help  me  to  save  Zena'fde. " 

Thus  adjured,  she  tried  to  collect  her 
thoughts.  "  I  have  been  through  so  much, 
Monsieur  Philippe,"  she  said,  pressing  her 
hands  over  her  eyes,  "  it  seems  as  if  I  could 
hardly  think.  Madame  von  Gaden  was  very 
kind  to  us,  and  gave  us  three  rooms  opening 
into  each  other;  and  in  the  corner  of  the  farther 
one  was  a  curtained  alcove.  Ze"nai"de  is  very 
quick,  and  she  noticed  this  at  once,  and  exam- 
ining it,  told  me  that  there  must  be  a  secret 
door  there.  It  was  an  evil  hour  when  she 
found  it,  for  she  never  rests  until  she  finds  out 
all  about  her  surroundings;  she  worked  at  it 
until,  in  some  way,  she  found  the  spring  and 
opened  it.  I  was  terribly  frightened,  and  did 
not  want  to  stay,  for  I  began  to  distrust  the  Von 
Gadens,  but  she  laughed;  she  has  such  faith 


252  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE, 

in  you,  Philippe,  that  she  would  not  believe 
that  you  would  put  us  in  a  dangerous  place. 
And  after  a  while  we  went  to  sleep,  and  were 
not  disturbed.  It  was  not  until  after  breakfast, 
the  next  morning,  that  anything  happened;  and 
then,  while  she  and  I  were  talking,  we  were 
startled  by  a  tap  on  the  secret  door.  Zenai'de 
rose  to  answer  it ;  she  was  always  fearless,  and 
would  not  listen  to  my  remonstrance.  She  went 
to  the  panel  and  asked  who  was  there.  Imme- 
diately a  voice  said,  '  A  private  message  from 
the  Vicomte  de  Brousson  to  Mademoiselle 
Ramodanofsky. '  *  How  shall  we  know  that 
you  come  from  the  Vicomte  ?  '  asked  Zenai'de, 
promptly,  although  I  clung  to  her,  and  begged 
to  be  allowed  to  call  Madame  von  Gaden.  '  I 
have  M.  de  Brousson' s  signet,  mademoiselle,' 
replied  the  voice  behind  the  panel  — " 

"  My  signet !  "  I  exclaimed,  interrupting  her. 

"Yes,  Monsieur  Philippe,"  she  replied  tear- 
fully, "your  signet!  And  the  knave  had  it, 
too,  for  I  recognized  it  myself." 

"Fool  that  I  was!"  I  exclaimed.  "It  is 
partly  my  fault,  then,  for  I  ought  to  have  told 
you  that  my  signet  was  stolen  on  the  night  in 
which  I  was  dragged  here  and  imprisoned.  But 
go  on,  mademoiselle;  tell  me  all." 

"At  that   announcement   Zenaide  would   no 


THE  PRISONER.  253 

longer  listen  to  reason,  but  opened  the  panel. 
There  stood  a  slight  young  fellow,  not  much 
more  than  a  lad ;  and  sure  enough,  in  his  hand 
lay  your  signet.  He  could  speak  nothing  but 
Russian,  but  could  say  '  mademoiselle '  and 
'monsieur  le  vicomte;  '  and  that,  with  your 
signet,  made  me  think  that  he  had  been  about 
your  person,  for  these  Russian  youths  know 
nothing  but  their  own  tongue.  He  told  a 
straight  story ;  he  said  that  he  brought  a  verbal 
message,  because  you  were  afraid  to  write  any- 
thing, thinking  he  might  be  captured.  He 
represented  that  you  had  just  discovered  that 
the  Von  Gadens  were  treacherous,  and  dared 
not  leave  us  in  that  house  an  hour  longer.  You 
had  been  summoned  by  the  Czarevna  Sophia, 
he  said,  and  could  not  come,  but  had  sent  him 
to  conduct  us  to  your  lodgings,  there  to  wait 
until  you  could  take  us  to  the  Kremlin,  the 
czarevna  having  expressed  her  willingness  to 
protect  us.  Zenaide  drew  me  aside,  and  we  dis- 
cussed the  situation ;  we  both  thought  the  mes- 
sage genuine.  I  recognized  the  signet,  and  his 
perfect  acquaintance  with  your  affairs  disarmed 
our  natural  suspicions.  ZenaYde  questioned 
him  about  his  discovery  of  the  secret  stair,  but 
he  said  that  you  knew  of  it;  and  knowing  that 
you  had  been  intimate  with  the  Von  Gadens, 


254  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

we  concluded  that  the  message  was  true.  Our 
decision  was  hastened  by  the  messenger;  he 
informed  us  that  Von  Gaden  had  left  the  house, 
and  it  was  thought  that  he  was  communicating 
with  Viatscheslav  Naryshkin ;  therefore  we  had 
not  a  moment  to  lose.  Alas  !  "  cried  mademoi- 
selle, interrupting  herself  and  wringing  her 
hands,  "  if  we  had  only  delayed !  "  And  the 
good  woman  stopped  to  wipe  away  her  tears. 

"Continue,  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  with  some 
impatience;  "regret  is  of  no  avail  now;  we 
must  only  try  to  mend  the  evil. " 

"The  rest  is  soon  told,"  she  said  sorrowfully. 
"Z6naide's  impetuosity  and  my  folly  carried 
the  day ;  I  ought  to  have  known  that  you  would 
come  yourself.  We  gathered  up  our  wraps,  and 
veiling  ourselves,  followed  our  young  guide 
down  a  narrow  flight  of  stairs  which  led  into  a 
kind  of  cellar  —  " 

"I  know,  mademoiselle,"  I  interrupted.  "I 
have  examined  them  but  a  few  hours  since. 
You  went  out  by  the  trap-door?" 

"  Alas !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  never  knew  how 
we  were  taken  out.  You  know  how  dark  it  is 
there?  The  boy  had  guided  us  with  a  light, 
but  when  we  reached  the  cellar,  he  suddenly 
extinguished  it,  and  I  heard  Zenaide  spring 
back  towards  the  stairs;  she  had  evidently 


THE  PRISONER.  255 

divined  our  peril  before  I  did.  There  was  a 
struggle  in  the  darkness,  and  I  shrieked;  the 
next  instant  I  was  seized  and  gagged,  and  then 
came  the  hardest  blow;  I  did  not  know  what 
they  did  to  my  poor  girl.  I  was  dragged  off  to 
the  Ramodanofsky  carriage,  which  stood  in  the 
lane,  and  that  fiend  Polotsky  brought  me  here 
and  locked  me  up.  And  I  have  been  in  agony 
of  mind  about  Zenaide,  and  expecting  to  be 
killed  every  moment.  What  shall  we  do  now, 
Monsieur  Philippe?  " 

I  was  pacing  the  cell.  One  thing  relieved 
me:  Ramodanof sky's  servants  had  captured 
them,  and  therefore  it  was  not  probable  that 
Zenaide  had  suffered  any  injury  at  their  hands. 
I  had  hoped  to  learn  much  more  from  mademoi- 
selle, but  her  story  had  been  slow  in  telling  and 
barren  of  any  clue  to  Z6naKde's  fate. 

"Come,  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "we  must  go 
at  once  to  Dr.  von  Gaden's.  Every  hour  counts. " 

She  rose  gladly  enough,  and  then  stood  look- 
ing at  me.  "Where  is  the  boyar?"  she  ex- 
claimed suddenly.  "  How  did  you  come  here  ?  " 

"The  Boyar  Vladimir  Sergheievitch  is  dead," 
I  replied  quietly,  "and  the  Boyar  Feodor  is 
alive  again." 

She  stared  at  me  as  if  I  had  lost  my  senses. 
Even  at  that  moment,  I  could  not  forbear  to 


256  ON   THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

smile.  There  was  something  about  mademoi- 
selle that  could  be  amusing  even  in  the  midst 
of  tragedy. 

"Vladimir  died  by  his  own  act,"  I  said,  and 
told  her  briefly  of  his  attempt  to  poison  me, 
frustrated  only  by  the  telltale  mirror. 

"And  the  Boyar  Feodor,  Zena'fde's  father, 
what  of  him  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  as  if  she  could 
no  longer  trust  her  ears. 

"He  lives,"  I  replied;  "but  it  will  take  too 
long  to  tell  you  all  here,  mademoiselle;  we 
must  go  away." 

"Gladly,  Monsieur  Philippe,"  she  replied. 
"I  looked  upon  this  as  a  living  tomb;  I  had 
said  my  prayers,  and  was  composing  my  mind 
to  die  when  you  came." 

While  she  spoke,  we  had  reached  the  outer 
room,  and  I  led  the  way  to  the  door.  It  was 
closed.  My  heart  misgave  me  at  once,  but  I 
tried  to  open  it  with  all  my  strength,  refusing 
to  believe  in  so  wretched  a  calamity;  but  it  did 
not  yield  an  inch :  it  had  been  fastened  on  the 
outside.  It  was  too  solid  to  shake,  and  though 
I  beat  it,  and  shouted  for  the  knave  who  let  me 
in,  and  tried  the  key  in  the  lock,  it  was  all  to 
no  purpose.  We  were  caught  like  rats  in  a 
trap,  through  my  own  stupidity.  I  was 
ashamed  to  face  mademoiselle,  but  when  I 


THE  PRISONER.  257 

turned  despairingly  from  the  door,  I  saw  that 
she  had  accepted  the  inevitable  with  more 
resignation.  She  was  kneeling  on  the  floor 
telling  her  beads;  but  I  was  too  anxious  to  sub- 
mit to  her  religion  as  a  consolation. 

"Is  there  no  other  door?  "  I  asked  sharply. 
"We  must  get  out." 

She  shook  her  head.  "There  is  no  other 
door,  Philippe;  and  now  that  the  boyar  is  dead, 
Polotsky  will  starve  us  to  death." 

"  Polotsky !  "  I  exclaimed,  with  more  impa- 
tience than  courtesy,  "  Polotsky  is  safe  enough  at 
my  house,  watched  by  Pierrot.  They  must  find 
us  here  before  long;  but  meanwhile,  Ze"naide! 
Every  minute  tells !  Fool  that  I  was  !  " 

She  was  more  calm  than  I.  Her  previous 
experience  had  schooled  her,  and  she  looked  at 
me  sadly. 

"Never  trust  one  of  these  people,"  she  said 
quietly.  "Vladimir  Sergheievitch  never  had 
an  honest  servant  in  all  the  years  that  I  have 
lived  here  teaching  my  poor  Zenaide.  They 
are  all  thieves  and  rogues.  A  rogue  never  had 
an  honest  man  to  serve  him." 

And  with  this,   she   returned  to  her  beads, 
and  I  walked  the  room  in  a  fever  of  anxiety  and 
anger;   exasperated  rather  than   comforted    by 
her  evidently  despairing  resignation. 
17 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

BAFFLED. 

THERE  was  a  window  in  the  inner  cell,  a  nar- 
row slit  in  the  solid  wall  on  a  level  with  my 
eyes,  and  barred  with  iron.  It  served  only  to 
admit  the  air  and  a  faint  gleam  of  light,  for  it 
had  no  outlook  but  the  blank  wall  of  the  court, 
not  six  feet  away.  Even  without  the  bars  it 
was  too  narrow  to  permit  a  man  to  squeeze 
through,  and  it  afforded  us  little  comfort. 
Locked  in  between  those  massive  walls,  no 
sound  reached  us  from  the  house;  it  was  as 
silent  as  the  tomb.  I  returned  again  and  again 
to  my  attempts  to  force  the  door,  although  com- 
mon sense  told  me  that  they  were  futile. 
Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  increased  my  exaspera- 
tion by  her  hopeless  demeanor.  It  was  manifest 
that  she  thought  we  could  easily  be  forgotten 
and  left  to  perish  in  the  cellar  of  a  Russian 
house ;  but  I  had  some  confidence  in  Von  Gaden, 
and  more  in  Pierrot ;  I  was  sure  that  my  fate 


BAFFLED.  2  $9 

would  be  investigated.  If  there  had  only  been 
the  Boyar  Feodor  Sergheievitch,  I  should  have 
felt  differently,  for  he  was  cast  in  too  stern  a 
mold  to  waste  time  or  anxiety  upon  me:  the 
Tartar  was  too  close  to  the  surface  to  permit 
any  tender  feelings ;  his  years  of  suffering  had 
swept  away  the  finer  qualities,  leaving  only  the 
heroic  nature.  As  I  paced  that  narrow  cell  in 
the  heat  of  my  anger  and  disappointment,  I  still 
could  not  avoid  picturing  the  meeting  between 
father  and  daughter  —  if  it  ever  happened. 
With  her  French  blood  and  her  French  train- 
ing, what  would  Zenaide  Feodorovna  think  of 
this  rugged  man?  There  could  be  no  founda- 
tion of  natural  affection  between  them,  since 
they  had  been  separated  when  Z6nai'de  was  too 
young  to  understand  the  tie  which  bound  her 
to  the  stern  boyar.  What  a  strange  meeting 
it  would  be ! 

Mademoiselle  had  retired  to  the  inner  cell 
and  left  me  in  possession  of  the  other,  but  came 
now  to  the  door  between,  and  stood  looking  at 
me.  I  noticed  again  that  her  curls  were  hang- 
ing limp,  as  if  they  sympathized  with  her 
discouragement. 

"  I  have  been  thinking,"  she  said,  in  a  tremu- 
lous voice,  "and  I  fear  that  her  uncle's  death 
will  be  a  bad  thing  for  Zenaide." 


260  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"I  should  think  it  would  be  the  best  thing 
that  could  happen,"  I  said. 

She  shook  her  head.  "  It  leaves  her  to 
Viatscheslav, "  she  replied  quietly;  "he  is  her 
betrothed,  and  her  guardian  dead,  you  see  what 
will  happen?  He  and  the  czarina  can  force 
the  marriage  just  as  easily  as  before." 

I  flung  out  my  hands  impatiently. 
•    "Why  tell  me  this  now?"  I  cried,  "when  I 
am  helpless,    and  there  is  no   refuge   but   the 
hope  that  her  father  will  act  more   discreetly 
than  I  have  done." 

"Don't  blame  yourself,  Philippe,"  mademoi- 
selle said  gently;  "we  cannot  always  foresee 
and  prevent  every  evil.  It  is  true  that  it 
would  have  been  better  to  have  left  me  to  my 
fate,  and  pressed  on  in  search  of  the  young 
girl." 

She  spoke  sadly,  and  there  was  an  implied 
reproach  in  her  words  which  smote  me.  I 
took  her  hand  and  pressed  it  warmly. 

"You  forget,  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "that 
your  safety  is  dear  to  Zenafcle  and  to  me.  Do 
you  think  that  Philippe  de  Brousson  forgets  old 
friends  ? " 

The  tears  came  into  the  excellent  woman's 
eyes. 

"Ah,  Philippe,"  she  said  sorrowfully,  "I  am 


BAFFLED.  26 1 

one  of  the  unfortunates  of  this  world  who 
usually  get  only  the  crumbs  from  the  rich  man's 
table,  and  it  touches  me  to  be  remembered. 
But  you  were  ever  true-hearted.  I  cannot  look 
at  you,  broad-shouldered,  bronzed  man  that 
you  are,  without  seeing  the  little  fair-haired 
boy  playing  among  the  roses  in  the  garden  of 
the  chateau. " 

"Keep  the  memory  fresh,  mademoiselle,"  I 
said  lightly;  "think  of  me  ever  at  my  best." 

She  went  back  to  her  room,  and  for  a  little 
while  I  was  left  to  my  reflections,  and  then  she 
came  again  to  the  door. 

"I  hear  a  noise  of  some  kind,"  she  said,  with 
some  excitement  in  her  voice.  "  It  comes  from 
the  streets,  and  is  like  the  sound  of  some  great 
disturbance.  What  can  it  be?" 

Her  first  words  had  raised  the  hope  that  our 
rescuers  were  at  hand;  and,  even  failing  that,  I 
was  eager  to  catch  every  murmur  from  the  out- 
side world.  We  both  went  to  the  narrow  win- 
dow, and  listened.  It  was  now  dark,  and  we 
could  not  even  see  the  wall,  which  served  to 
dull  the  sounds  coming  to  us  on  the  night  wind; 
it  was  a  deep,  low  murmur,  like  the  growling 
of  a  tempest,  far  off,  but  unmistakable.  We 
listened  intently;  both  of  us  had  the  same 
thought. 


262  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"  It  must  be  a  riot,"  mademoiselle  exclaimed, 
a  thrill  of  excitement  in  her  voice. 

It  was  the  twenty -fourth  of  May,  1682,  and 
we  were  listening  to  the  first  rumblings  of  the 
storm  that  was  to  break  on  the  morrow  upon 
the  Kremlin,  and  in  a  few  hours  work  a  mighty 
change. 

"That  is  the  sound  of  a  multitude,"  I  re- 
marked as  we  stood  there,  so  anxious  and  so 
helpless.  "  I  know  that  trouble  has  been  brew- 
ing for  weeks,  and  it  may  culminate  to-night. " 

"Holy  Virgin!"  ejaculated  mademoiselle, 
"what  will  become  of  my  poor  lamb?  " 

I  turned  away  sharply;  a  hundred  horrid 
thoughts  assailed  me,  and  I  was  in  prison ! 
Oh,  the  anguish  of  such  enforced  quiet ! 
Where  was  Ramodanofsky,  and  that  knave 
Pierrot?  I  was  beside  myself  with  futile  rage. 
I  went  once  more  to  the  door  and  beat  upon  it, 
not  with  any  real  hope  of  escape,  but  it  served 
as  a  vent  to  my  uncontrollable  excitement.  To 
be  a  man,  and  caged  at  such  a  moment !  I 
envied  mademoiselle  her  tears  and  her  resigna- 
tion; in  sooth,  it  is  easier  for  a  woman  to  be  a 
martyr.  She  is  accustomed  to  the  surrender 
to  evil  destiny,  bowed  into  submission  to  the 
stronger  will ;  but  with  a  man  it  is  different. 
I  paced  that  narrow  cell,  inwardly  raving  at 


BAFFLED.  26$ 

myself  and  Von  Gaden ;  if  no  one  else  imagined 
my  misadventure,  he  was  keen  enough  to  divine 
it,  and  I  saw  no  excuse  for  this  miserable  delay. 
Could  it  be  that  they  had  come,  and  partially 
searched  the  house,  and  gone  away  again  with- 
out discovering  the  cellar  dungeons?  The 
thought  drove  the  cold  sweat  out  on  my  fore- 
head. We  might  easily  starve  there  without 
any  one  hearing  our  outcries,  and  the  villain 
who  had  locked  us  in  would  have  fled  from  the 
new  master  of  the  house,  and  was  even  now, 
perhaps,  laughing  at  my  folly  in  leaving  him 
outside  a  door.  And  in  the  mean  while,  what 
would  happen  to  Zena'fde?  I  thought  of  her 
constantly ;  her  fair  face  and  blue  eyes  and  her 
long  flaxen  hair  stood  out  before  me  like  a  pic- 
ture on  the  dark  background  of  my  despair. 
How  little  I  had  accomplished  to  save  her  from 
the  fate  which  threatened  her!  How  easily  I 
had  permitted  my  enemies  to  outwit  me !  Fool 
that  I  was !  —  but  for  the  French  mirror,  I  might 
have  been  lying  now  stiff  and  stark  in  Vladi- 
mir's place.  I  had  been  such  a  blunderer  in  all 
else,  I  marveled  that  I  had  not  fallen  a  victim 
in  this  also. 

The  hours  dragged  wearily  past,  and  it  must 
have  been  near  midnight  when  mademoiselle 
came  again  to  the  door. 


264  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"There  is  something  going  on  in  the  house," 
she  said  breathlessly.  "  I  have  been  listening 
at  my  window,  and  have  heard  noises  in  the 
court. " 

I  was  alert  at  once.  "  Then  we  must  make 
an  outcry,  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  "or  we  shall 
never  be  found.  Go  to  the  window  and  shriek 
for  help,  and  I  will  beat  upon  the  door. " 

"Is  it  wise,  Philippe?"  she  asked  fearfully. 
"  It  might  be  some  enemy,  and  it  would  be  so 
easy  to  demolish  us." 

"  Nonsense,  mademoiselle !  "  I  exclaimed  im- 
patiently. "Is  it  better  to  perish  of  hunger? 
Moreover,  it  must  be  our  friends;  they  have 
been  long  in  coming,  too.  Think  of  Zenai'de, 
mademoiselle,  and  help  me  to  rouse  them." 

Thus  adjured,  she  went  to  the  window,  and  I 
heard  her  calling  for  help  in  her  thin  French 
voice,  in  the  intervals  of  the  noise  that  I  made 
in  beating  recklessly  upon  the  door.  I  kept  it 
up  until  I  was  worn  out,  and  pausing  for  breath, 
heard  steps  in  the  hall ;  and  in  another  moment 
the  bars  were  removed  from  the  outside,  and 
the  door  opened,  to  reveal  Pierrot  and  Von 
Gaden. 

"  You  have  given  us  a  terrible  fright,  M.  de 
Brousson,"  the  latter  remarked,  a  look  of  intense 
relief  coming  over  his  face  at  the  sight  of  me. 


BAFFLED.  26$ 

"I  hoped  you  would  find  me  sooner,"  I  ex- 
claimed, casting  a  glance  that  was  not  without 
rebuke  at  Pierrot. 

"  I  did  not  know  your  errand,  M.  le  Vicomte," 
he  returned  stolidly;  "if  I  had,  I  should  not 
have  waited  for  orders." 

"  It  was  my  fault,"  protested  Von  Gaden;  "  I 
did  not  want  Ramodanofsky  to  come  here,  and 
I  counted  confidently  on  your  ability  to  execute 
your  mission." 

"Too  confidently,  M.  le  Docteur,"  I  said 
dryly ;  "  I  have  proved  myself  but  a  fool.  But 
we  have  no  time  to  lose.  Come,  mademoiselle, 
you  will  be  glad  to  be  out  of  this  cage." 

"  You  have  found  her  ?  "  exclaimed  Von  Gaden, 
eagerly;  but  his  face  fell  at  the  sight  of  Made- 
moiselle Eudoxie,  who  came  out  in  a  state  of 
collapse. 

As  we  ascended  the  stairs,  I  recounted  to  him 
briefly  all  that  she  had  told  me.  I  found,  to  my 
chagrin,  that  they  had  no  tidings,  having  appar- 
ently waited  for  me.  Von  Gaden  told  me  that 
when  I  did  not  return,  Ramodanofsky  came 
back,  after  having  been  out  on  a  search  for 
Homyak,  and  that  they  had  come  together  to 
the  house,  and  found  Vladimir,  as  I  had  left 
him,  on  the  floor.  The  serfs  had  evidently 
discovered  him  before  their  arrival,  and  fled 


266  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

in  fear  of  being  accused  of  murder;  for,  al- 
though the  doors  of  the  apartment  had  been 
forced  open,  the  body  had  not  been  disturbed, 
and  the  doctor  said  that  the  cups  still  stood  on 
the  table  with  the  untouched  dish  of  caviare. 
We  did  not  go  into  the  room,  for  when  we 
reached  the  large  hall,  we  found  Feodor  Sergh- 
eievitch  pacing  up  and  down  with  a  gloomy  face. 
What  strange  thoughts  must  have  been  his  that 
night !  I  noticed  at  once  that  he  wore  the  full 
uniform  of  the  Streltsi,  and  was  completely 
armed.  I  presented  him  to  Mademoiselle 
Eudoxie,  and  he  met  her  with  more  kindness 
than  I  had  imagined  him  capable  of  display- 
ing. I  saw  her  looking  at  his  scarred  and 
drawn  face  with  an  expression  of  awe ;  but  she 
felt,  too,  his  courteous  acknowledgment  of  her 
care  of  his  daughter.  We  were  all  too  troubled 
about  ZenaYde,  however,  to  think  of  anything 
else. 

"The  city  is  in  a  tumult  to-night,"  Von 
Gaden  remarked;  "there  have  been  small  riots 
in  several  quarters,  and  we  cannot  move  too 
quickly.  Mademoiselle,  will  you  return  to  my 
house  with  me? " 

Both  Ramodanofsky  and  I  saw  her  look  of 
horror,  and  the  boyar  solved  the  difficulty. 

"If   mademoiselle  will  return  to  her  rooms 


BAFFLED.  267 

here  for  the  present,  I  shall  be  grateful,"  he 
said.  "  Two  of  my  men  are  here,  and  will  stay 
to  guard  her,  and  she  can  be  ready  to  receive 
my  daughter  at  any  moment." 

Mademoiselle  knew  nothing  of  the  body 
still  lying  in  the  closed  room,  and  decided  to 
remain,  being  unable  to  conquer  her  aversion 
to  Von  Gaden's  house.  As  soon  as  she  was 
safely  installed,  we  separated,  each  to  prosecute 
the  search,  Pierrot  following  me.  We  were 
walking  away  from  the  house  alone  when  he 
caught  up  with  me. 

"  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said  in  a  subdued  voice, 
"begging  your  pardon,  we  had  better  go  to  your 
quarters. " 

"  What  do  you  mean,  knave  ? "  I  exclaimed 
sharply,  stopping  short. 

"Nothing,  my  lord,"  he  replied  calmly,  "ex- 
cept that  I  think  it  probable  that  that  Russian 
devil  of  M.  Ramodanof sky's  has  roasted  the 
other  one  by  this  time." 

"  You  fool !  "  I  cried.  "  Did  you  leave  Polot- 
sky  at  Michael's  mercy?" 

Pierrot's  stolidity  was  never  shaken. 

"You  were  in  peril,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said 
doggedly,  "and  I  cared  not  a  rap  whether  he 
roasted  forty  Russians  or  not,  so  long  as  I  saved 
you.  The  fellow  is  a  vile  knave  anyway,  and 


268  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

might  as  well  be  dead  as  alive ;  only  I  thought 
your  excellency  might  object  to  his  cooking 
him  at  your  quarters." 

"  You  rogue !  "  I  cried  angrily.  "  Go  at  once 
and  protect  the  wretch  until  I  come;  I  have  not 
a  moment  to  lose  now. " 

With  considerable  reluctance  he  obeyed, 
walking  off  slowly,  and  looking  back  more  than 
once  over  his  shoulder. 

I  went  on  rapidly,  turning  my  face  towards 
the  Kremlin.  If  Homyak  had  returned  from 
his  errand,  he  would  be  about  the  palace,  and 
I  was  determined  to  find  him. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

HOMYAK. 

AT  last,  after  so  much  ill  luck,  fortune 
favored  me.  At  no  great  distance  from  Von 
Gaden's  house,  in  a  lonely  street,  I  saw  a 
small  figure  dodging  along  ahead  of  me.  Dark 
as  it  was,  I  was  certain  of  my  discovery.  There 
were  many  court  dwarfs,  but  there  was  some- 
thing about  Homyak's  figure  and  gait  that  was 
unmistakable.  He  did  not  know  who  was  be- 
hind him,  and  was  off  his  guard.  In  a  moment 
I  had  overtaken  him,  and  had  him  by  the  collar; 
he  shrieked  and  cowered  like  a  frightened 
animal,  but  I  put  my  pistol  to  his  head  for  the 
second  time. 

"  Be  quiet,  you  rogue !  "  I  said,  in  a  low  tone. 
"  If  you  make  any  outcry,  it  will  cost  you  your 
life." 

He  recognized  my  voice  at  once,  and  I  fan- 
cied that  he  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief. 

"Why  do  you  use  me  so  ill,  M.  le  Vicomte? " 
he  whined.  "  I  was  on  my  way  to  the  Kremlin 


2/0  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

on  business  for  her  majesty;  it  is  not  safe  to 
interfere  with  me ;  the  czarina  —  " 

I  had  turned  him  about,  and  was  half  push- 
ing, half  dragging  him  along. 

"  You  will  come  back  with  me,  neverthe- 
less," I  replied  calmly,  making  my  way  towards 
Von  Gaden's.  "You  can  give  us  some  infor- 
mation that  we  need,  and  give  it  you  shall." 

He  whimpered  in  the  darkness,  and  writhed 
in  my  hands  like  the  miserable  ape  that  he 
was. 

"I  know  nothing,  M.  de  Brousson,"  he  cried 
feverishly;  "you  are  wasting  time  on  a  poor 
wretch  who  cannot  fight  you." 

I  did  not  reply,  but  tightened  my  grip  on  his 
collar,  remembering  Zenai'de,  and  longing  to 
whip  the  hound  as  he  deserved.  But  he  was 
determined  not  to  give  up  without  a  protest. 

"Where  are  you  taking  me?"  he  moaned. 
"  I  shall  be  punished  at  the  palace  for  my  delay. 
What  can  your  excellency  want  with  so  humble 
a  creature  ? " 

I  smiled  grimly  in  the  darkness;  I  was  not 
without  some  enjoyment  of  the  situation. 

"  I  am  taking  you  to  an  old  acquaintance, 
Homyak, "  I  said  quietly;  "to  the  Boyar  Feodor 
Sergheievitch  Ramodanofsky. " 

Homyak   cried  out  in  his  agony  of   alarm, 


HOMYAK.  2/1 

and  almost  wrenched  himself  from  my  grip. 
"  Have  mercy !  "  he  shrieked,  with  a  repetition 
of  Polotsky's  abject  terror.  "  Anything  but  that, 
M.  le  Vicomte;  do  with  me  as  you  will,  but 
spare  me  that.  I  will  tell  anything,  do  any- 
thing if  you  will  keep  me  from  him." 

I  could  not  help  sympathizing  with  his  desire 
to  escape;  I  could  scarcely  imagine  a  more 
relentless  fate  than  the  boyar.  However,  I  saw 
my  advantage,  and  merely  hastened  my  steps, 
although  I  had  literally  to  drag  the  dwarf  by 
main  force,  while  he  begged  for  mercy.  At  the 
door,  I  found  Von  Gaden,  and  together  we  took 
the  limp  prisoner  into  the  study,  and  there, 
while  he  cowered  before  my  pistol,  we  cross- 
examined  him,  Von  Gaden  annoying  me  by  his 
eagerness  to  fathom  the  dwarf's  connection 
with  Ramodanofsky,  while  I  was  endeavoring  to 
obtain  information  about  Ze"naide. 

"Polotsky  has  confessed,"  I  said,  "and  it 
only  remains  for  you  to  tell  us  what  you  know. 
Denials  will  not  serve." 

"I  know  nothing,"  whined  the  dwarf,  reas- 
sured by  the  absence  of  Ramodanofsky,  and 
resuming  his  original  pretense  of  ignorance. 

"  Pshaw,  Homyak ! "  interposed  Von  Gaden, 
sternly,  "what  is  the  use  of  lying  to  me?  Do 
you  think  I  have  forgotten  the  attempted  murder 


2/2  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

of  Feodor  Sergheievitch?  Do  you  think  you 
can  escape  his  vengeance  ?  There  is  no  one  to 
protect  you.  Vladimir  has  gone  to  meet  the 
eternal  justice." 

The  dwarf  stared  at  him  wildly. 

"Vladimir  Sergheievitch  dead?"  he  cried; 
and  then  a  sudden  thought  brought  a  gleam  to 
his  eyes.  "By  the  hand  of  Feodor?  "  he  asked. 

"By  his  own  act,"  I  retorted  gravely;  "and 
we  know  that  you  were  employed  to  remove 
Mademoiselle  Zenaide  Feodorovna  from  this 
house,  and  you  must  take  us  to  the  place  where 
she  is  imprisoned.  You  were  Vladimir's 
agent. " 

"Yes,"  interrupted  Von  Gaden  again,  to  my 
annoyance,  "just  as  you  were  employed  fifteen 
years  ago  to  stab  Feodor  on  the  threshold  of  his 
home." 

"I  was  not,"  cried  the  dwarf,  vehemently. 
"Vladimir  Sergheievitch  stabbed  his  brother 
himself;  I  only  witnessed  it." 

"It  is  easy  to  accuse  the  dead,"  retorted  Von 
Gaden,  scornfully. 

"It  is  true,"  protested  Homyak,  angered  and 
frightened  by  the  physician's  mocking  manner. 
"  I  knew  it  all,  and  he  feared  me,  —  feared  I 
would  betray  him  to  the  Czar  Alexis. " 

"Yet  you  were  guilty,   Homyak,"  said  the 


HOMYAK.  273 

other,  calmly;  "it  was  you  who  stripped  the 
dead  body  of  the  prisoner  and  put  the  clothes 
on  Feodor,  while  he  was  yet  unconscious." 

The  dwarf  cowered,  watching  his  interlocutor 
as  if  under  a  spell. 

"I  never  put  the  clothes  on  the  boyar,"  he 
exclaimed.  "  I  did  strip  the  corpse  in  the 
prison  and  helped  Polotsky  to  throw  it  in  the 
Yauza,  but  they  dressed  Feodor  Sergheievitch 
in  the  clothes  and  put  him  in  the  cell  them- 
selves; he  was  about  the  size  of  the  dead 
felon,  and  it  did  n't  cost  much  to  make  the 
guards  think  he  was  the  same.  I  did  nothing 
then." 

"You  have  admitted  a  good  deal,"  said  Von 
Gaden,  with  a  laugh;  "the  boyar  may  have 
another  opinion  about  your  innocence." 

Homyak  collapsed  in  his  chair,  suddenly 
awakened  to  the  trap  into  which  the  Jew  had 
skillfully  led  him.  I  was  beside  myself  with 
impatience. 

"  Come,  Homyak,"  I  said  impatiently,  "where 
is  Mademoiselle  Zenai'de?  " 

"I  do  not  know,"  he  reiterated  sullenly. 

I  looked  at  the  clock  and  ran  my  finger  down 
the  barrel  of  my  pistol. 

"  The  Boyar  Ramodanofsky  will  be  here  in 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,"  I  said  quietly,  "and  you 
18 


274  ON  THE   RED  STAIRCASE. 

can  take  your  choice   between  answering  him 
and  leading  me  to  the  place." 

It  seemed  to  me  that  the  dwarf's  pale  face 
turned  green  as  he  stared  at  us.  It  was  the 
last  straw,  and  he  surrendered  quickly  enough. 

"Zena'ide  Feodorovna  is  safe,"  he  protested; 
"she  is  in  a  house  across  the  Moskva,  in  the 
Bielui-gorod.  I  will  take  you  there  instantly, 
M.  le  Vicomte;  I  will  do  anything  if  you  will 
but  save  me  from  that  man's  hands." 

"  Prepare  yourself,  then,"  I  said  at  once;  "we 
will  go  without  delay  to  the  house,  and  woe  to 
you  if  you  have  deceived  me  —  in  the  smallest 
particular  —  for  your  life  shall  answer  for  Made- 
moiselle's safety." 

Von  Gaden  had  been  called  out  of  the  room 
while  I  spoke,  and  returned  now  with  a  grave 
face.  I  was  making  ready  for  instant  depar- 
ture. 

"You  will  have  to  go  out  by  the  secret  stair, 
M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said  to  me  in  French;  "the 
Streltsi  have  risen,  and  there  is  a  mob  in  the 
street.  I  hear  them  calling  for  me." 

While  he  was  speaking,  I  heard  a  loud  noise 
at  the  street  door;  in  our  excitement  we  had 
not  noticed  the  sounds  without,  which  might 
have  warned  us.  We  'stood  listening  now, 
taken  by  surprise,  and  could  hear  the  shouting 


HOMY  A  A'.  275 

of  a  mob  and  the  crash  of  stones  against  the 
door. 

"  Where  is  your  wife  ?  "  I  asked  at  once. 

"  Fortunately  not  here  to-night,  but  with  a 
friend,"  he  replied  quietly. 

Looking  suddenly  at  Homyak,  I  saw  a  gleam 
of  demoniac  triumph  on  his  white  face;  it 
roused  me  to  immediate  action. 

"We  have  not  a  moment  to  lose,"  I  said  to 
Von  Gaden ;  "  we  must  get  out  by  the  secret 
staircase,  and  take  this  knave  with  us,  or  all 
will  be  lost." 

The  servants  were  crowding  into  the  room, 
shaking  with  fear,  to  tell  us  that  a  mob  was 
beating  in  the  door. 

"  They  will  not  harm  you,  you  fools ! "  Von 
Gaden  said.  "They  want  me;  they  think  me 
a  poisoner,  a  magician,  a  devil."  He  spoke 
with  a  passionate  scorn,  realizing  how  bitter 
was  the  requital  for  all  his  skill  and  devotion. - 
"You  can  save  yourselves  easily,"  he  added, 
looking  at  the  trembling  menials,  "by  throwing 
open  the  door  and  delivering  me  into  their 
hands." 

Meanwhile  the  tumult  without  increased,  and 
we  could  hear  the  door  creak  under  the  shower 
of  heavy  blows ;  it  was  only  a  question  of  a  few 
minutes  before  they  would  be  upon  us.  I 


2/6  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

seized  Homyak  by  the  collar  and  touched  Von 
Gaden's  sleeve;  he  started  as  if  suddenly 
roused,  and  awakened  to  the  importance  of 
haste. 

"We  must  be  off,  Dr.  von  Gaden,"  I  said. 
"The  door  will  not  hold  many  minutes  more." 

He  told  the  servants  to  return  to  their  quar- 
ters, where  they  would  be  safe,  as  soon  as  the 
mob  found  that  he  had  gone.  Then  we  went 
up  the  stairs,  he  leading  and  I  following 
with  Homyak,  who  came  submissively  enough, 
hoping,  probably,  that  we  should  not  be  able 
to  escape.  There  had  been  a  momentary  lull 
without,  but  I  knew  that  the  quiet  boded  ill. 
We  had  barely  reached  the  top  of  the  stairs 
when  there  was  a  tremendous  crash,  and  the  outer 
door  fell,  and  with  a  roar  of  triumphant  rage 
the  rioters  poured  in.  Von  Gaden  extinguished 
his  light,  and  in  the  dark  we  rushed  along  the 
passage,  and  getting  into  the  rooms  formerly 
occupied  by  Zenai'de,  secured  the  doors.  We 
could  hear  the  mob  shrieking  and  crashing 
through  the  lower  part  of  the  house,  and  we  had 
not  a  moment  to  spare.  The  doctor  had  pro- 
cured another  light,  and  I  held  it,  while  he 
unfastened  the  panel  and  listened  a  moment,  to 
assure  himself  that  the  secret  passage  was  not 
discovered.  A  blow  on  the  room  door  ended 


HOMYAK.  277 

his  hesitation;  signing  to  me  to  enter  first,  he 
secured  the  panel  on  the  inner  side  just  as  we 
heard  the  other  door  give  way.  Would  they 
discover  the  panel  ?  We  had  no  time  to  think, 
but  dashed  down  the  stairs,  almost  dragging 
Homyak,  who  either  could  not  or  would  not 
keep  pace  with  us.  When  we  reached  the 
cellar,  we  were  confronted  with  the  possibility 
that  the  house  was  surrounded,  and  the  lane 
cut  off.  All  was  quiet  behind  us;  evidently 
they  had  not  discovered  the  stair,  and  we  paused 
to  draw  breath.  Then  Von  Gaden  put  out  the 
light,  and  cautiously  unfastening  the  trap-door, 
peeped  out.  The  fresh  air  struck  my  face  with 
a  strangely  reviving  power.  It  was  still;  only 
distant  sounds  came  from  the  house  above  us. 
Von  Gaden  raised  the  trap  and  called  to  me  to 
come. 

"All  is  well  here,"  he  said  quietly,  a  tone  of 
relief  in  his  voice. 

Approaching  with  Homyak,  I  stood  beside 
him  and  looked  out.  The  first  gray  light  of 
the  morning  of  the  twenty-fifth  of  May  was 
shining  upon  the  stone  walls  and  the  deserted 
lane.  It  was  as  quiet  and  lonely  as  the  most 
peaceful  spot  in  the  world,  but  the  coming  light 
troubled  me  not  a  little. 

"  Where  will  you  go?  "  I  said  to  Von  Gaden 


278  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

in  French.  "You  cannot  accompany  us  in 
broad  daylight;  it  would  be  certain  death  to 
you." 

"Ay,  and  ruin  to  your  project,  M.  le 
Vicomte,"  he  replied  calmly.  "I  know  of  a 
temporary  refuge  near  at  hand.  You  must  go 
on  at  once,  and  may  success  attend  you. " 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  leave  you  in  this  extrem- 
ity," I  rejoined,  hesitatingly. 

"Delay  is  fatal,"  he  replied  quietly;  "this 
is  the  beginning  of  the  end.  Sophia  has  let 
loose  the  fiends,  and  who  will  chain  them  up 
again?  Zenalde  Feodorovna  is  in  danger  from 
them  also;  therefore  farewell,  M.  de  Brousson, 
and  may  your  patron  saint  befriend  you." 

We  were  standing  in  the  lane,  and  he  pressed 
my  hand;  his  face  was  sad,  it  may  have  been 
with  a  prescience  of  impending  fate.  His 
warning  had  taken  effect,  however,  and  my 
thoughts  were  all  for  Zenalde' s  safety;  and  so 
I  parted  from  him  and  hurried  on  with  the 
reluctant  dwarf,  who  saw  that  his  chances  of 
evading  me  grew  momentarily  less.  Once  I 
looked  back  and  saw  the  Jew  disappearing  into 
the  low  door  of  a  pine  hovel  at  the  end  of  the 
lane,  —  one  of  those  huts  occupied  by  peasants, 
and  built  in  two  days,  at  the  cost  of  a  few 
rubles,  and  at  that  time  scattered  through  Mos- 


HOMYAK.  279 

cow,  beside  the  palaces  of  the  nobles,  in  every 
quarter  of  the  town.  After  this,  I  turned  my 
face  steadily  towards  the  river  and  hurried  on, 
guided  by  Homyak,  who  seemed  to  grow  more 
resigned  to  the  inevitable  as  he  realized  my 
relentless  determination.  I  had  selected  a  way 
that  I  knew  was  not  likely  to  be  crossed  by  the 
rioters,  and  our  progress  was  uninterrupted. 
This  part  of  the  city  seemed  quiet  enough  as 
yet,  undisturbed  as  it  was  by  the  tumult  stir- 
ring in  the  quarters  of  the  Streltsi.  Yet  there 
was  a  portentous  aspect  even  about  these  silent 
houses;  occasionally  a  face  would  appear  at  a 
window,  to  be  withdrawn  as  quickly  at  our 
approach,  and  once  or  twice  I  heard  the  heavy 
bolts  drawn  across  a  door  as  our  footsteps 
sounded  in  the  silent  street.  There  was  terror 
here,  concealed  in  these  quiet  corners;  the 
specter  of  some  danger  already  lurked  in  these 
lonely  alleys.  The  gray  of  dawn  had  passed 
into  the  broad  daylight,  but  there  were  no  signs 
of  the  busy  life  of  a  city  waking  up;  it  seemed 
as  if  the  active  element  must  have  been  drawn 
off  to  another  quarter,  and  there  was  only  deso- 
lation here.  How  still  it  was !  We  were  in  the 
Bielui-gorod  now,  walking  in  the  direction  of 
the  Smolensk  Gate,  and  suddenly  we  were 
startled  by  a  strange  sound,  the  galloping  hoofs 


280  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

of  a  horse  and  a  man's  hoarse  voice  shouting 
something,  the  same  words  repeated  again  and 
again.  I  stopped  involuntarily  to  listen,  and 
in  a  moment  he  crossed  the  end  of  the  street, 
riding  recklessly,  and  swinging  his  long  arms 
over  his  head.  It  was  one  of  the  Streltsi,  and 
his  uniform  was  splashed  with  mud  and  his  long 
hair  was  flying.  He  saw  us  but  did  not  pause, 
only  calling  out  his  constant  cry :  — 

"  The  Naryshkins  have  murdered  the  Czare- 
vitch Ivan !  To  arms !  To  the  Kremlin  and 
punish  the  traitors !  Rescue  the  czar !  " 

And  with  this  he  dashed  on,  repeating  his 
alarm  as  he  went.  Could  it  be  true?  It  was 
not  probable  that  the  blind  czarevitch  had  been 
injured;  but,  in  any  case,  I  had  no  time  for 
reflection,  but  hastened  on,  knowing  that  this 
must  be  a  preconcerted  signal,  and  anticipating 
the  worst.  My  fears  were  soon  justified  by 
another  more  ominous  sign.  The  silence  of 
the  quiet  city  was  once  again  broken,  and  now 
by  a  tremendous  wave  of  sound,  a  deep,  warlike 
note;  the  tocsin  in  four  hundred  churches  called 
the  Streltsi  to  arms.  On  every  side,  the  loud, 
full  notes  smote  the  air  and  awoke  a  tremendous 
echo,  and  in  the  intervals,  far  off  I  heard  the 
roll  of  drums.  Still,  the  streets  about  me  re- 
mained deserted ;  the  rioters  were  not  here. 


HOMY  A  K.  28l 

I  had  released  my  hold  on  Homyak,  because 
I  did  not  wish  to  attract  the  notice  even  of  the 
occasional  watcher  at  a  window ;  but  he  walked 
in  front  of  me,  knowing  that  I  carried  my 
pistol,  ready  to  send  him  to  his  last  account 
if  he  made  an  attempt  to  escape.  It  struck 
me  now  that  he  was  walking  slowly,  and  I 
mended  my  pace.  "More  haste,  Homyak," 
I  remarked  grimly;  "every  moment  lost  in- 
creases your  risk  of  falling  into  Ramodanof- 
sky's  hands." 

"It  is  but  a  little  way  now,  M.  le  Vicomte," 
he  said  sullenly;  "yonder  is  the  house." 

I  looked  eagerly  in  the  direction  he  indicated, 
and  saw  a  plain-looking  building  that  might  be 
the  home  of  one  of  the  middle  class,  and  it  was 
closed  in  a  gloomy  fashion.  Running  my  eye 
over  the  portions  that  faced  us,  I  could  not  see 
a  sign  of  occupation.  It  occurred  to  me  that 
the  dwarf  might  be  leading  me  into  a  trap,  and 
I  laid  my  hand  again  on  his  collar,  at  the  same 
time  pushing  on  to  the  door. 

"  If  you  have  duped  me, "  I  said  sternly,  "  it 
will  cost  you  your  life,  if  the  odds  are  twenty  to 
one." 

"I  have  not  duped  you,  master,"  he  replied 
earnestly.  "M.  Ramodanof sky's  daughter  was 
there,  and  must  be  there  still." 


282  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

We  had  reached  the  door,  and  he  tapped  on 
it  three  times  in  a  peculiar  manner;  and  after  a 
little  it  was  opened  by  a  plain-looking  woman, 
who  gazed  at  me  curiously,  but  stood  aside  to 
admit  us,  as  if  Homyak's  presence  was  a  suffi- 
cient guarantee. 

"Take  this  gentleman  to  ZenaYde  Feodor- 
ovna's  apartments,"  the  dwarf  said  to  her;  and 
without  a  word  she  led  the  way,  and  we  followed 
to  the  rear  of  the  house  and  up  a  flight  of  steps; 
and  here,  at  an  open  door,  they  both  stood 
aside,  and  I  tapped  gently  before  entering,  my 
anxiety  swept  away  by  the  anticipation  of  seeing 
Zenaide.  A  large  vacant  room  met  my  eyes, 
sparsely  furnished,  and  with  a  door  leading 
into  another  apartment.  I  paused,  hesitating 
to  intrude  farther.  I  looked  back,  and  the 
woman  stood  in  the  other  door,  watching  me 
curiously. 

"  Go  in  and  tell  mademoiselle  that  M.  de 
Brousson  is  here,"  I  said. 

She  only  stared  at  me  for  a  moment,  and  then 
I  repeated  my  order  sharply. 

"  I  thought  you  knew  that  she  was  not  here 
now,"  she  said  stupidly. 

"  Not  here  ?  "  I  rushed  into  the  inner  room, 
only  to  find  it  empty;  but  on  the  floor  lay  a 
woman's  glove,  a  glove  like  the  one  dropped  by 


HOMYAK.  283 

Zenaide  in  the  Kremlin  long  ago.     In  an   in- 
stant I  divined  the  truth. 

"Where  is  that  rogue?"  I  exclaimed  as  I 
came  out. 

"  He  has  gone,  master, "  she  answered  stolidly ; 
"he  went  down  the  stairs  as  soon  as  you  turned 
your  back,  and  out  at  the  door." 

I  saw  that  she  at  least  spoke  the  truth,  and  ran 
to  the  outer  door;  but  there  was  no  sign  of  the 
dwarf,  —  he  had  escaped.  I  came  back,  deter- 
mined to  learn  the  truth  from  the  woman,  who,  I 
saw,  was  a  dull  tool,  little  schooled  in  evasion. 

"When  did  the  young  lady  leave  here?"  I 
asked  her  sharply. 

"About  an  hour  ago,  perhaps,"  she  replied, 
simply  enough,  "and  much  against  her  will; 
she  would  rather  have  stayed  with  me." 

"Who  was  with  her?  "  I  asked,  a  horror  pos- 
sessing me. 

"A  tall  man,  master,"  she  said  slowly.  "I 
did  not  know  him,  but  he  gave  the  signal  and 
he  had  the  boyar's  signet,  — a  man  with  an  ill- 
favored  face,  and  one  eye  turned  in  towards  the 
nose,  and  very  long  teeth. " 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  recognizing  the 
description ;  it  was  Viatscheslav. 

"  Did  he  say  where  he  was  going?  "  I  asked3 
curbing  my  excitement. 


284  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"To  the  Kremlin,"  she  replied  promptly, 
"  and  they  have  scarcely  been  gone  an  hour. " 

Without  waiting  for  another  word,  I  dashed 
out  and  turned  my  steps  towards  the  Kremlin, 
frenzied  with  anxiety. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE   RED   STAIRCASE. 

HAVING  had  no  sleep  and  scarcely  any  food 
for  many  hours,  I  was  worn  out ;  yet  so  intense 
was  the  mental  strain  that  the  physical  weak- 
ness was  little  heeded.  I  had  but  one  thought, — 
to  reach  the  Kremlin  in  time  to  intercede  with 
Sophia  for  Z6naYde.  In  the  midst  of  the  pres- 
ent trouble,  I  did  not  believe  that  Natalia  would 
oppose  the  czarevna's  wishes,  especially  since 
the  death  of  the  Boyar  Vladimir  Sergheievitch 
made  his  niece  less  important.  Her  marriage 
with  Naryshkin  could  no  longer  insure  the 
loyalty  of  one  of  the  older  nobles.  On  the 
other  hand,  Vladimir's  death  and  Feodor's 
return  would  have  weight  with  Sophia,  on 
account  of  Galitsyn's  friendship  for  the  elder 
boyar.  I  had  no  time  for  reflection,  however, 
as  I  dashed  along  at  the  top  of  my  speed, 
no  longer  noticing  the  deserted  streets,  and 
scarcely  conscious  of  the  increasing  volume  of 
sound  that  rolled  towards  me  as  I  approached 


286  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE, 

the  Kremlin.  The  confused  roar  of  a  vast  mul- 
titude, and  now  and  then  the  roll  of  a  drum  or 
the  crash  of  firearms,  filled  my  ears.  Still 
I  heeded  them  not,  but  rushing  on,  reached  the 
outskirts  of  the  crowd  that  was  gathering  in 
every  avenue  to  the  five  gates  of  the  fortress. 
I  pushed  my  way  amidst  the  angry,  threatening 
mob,  indifferent  to  the  outcry  and  tumult;  but 
as  I  approached  the  Gate  of  Saint  Nicholas  of 
Mojai'sk,  it  became  almost  impossible  to  ad- 
vance; the  entrance  was  packed,  and  looking 
over  the  heads  of  those  immediately  in  front, 
I  could  see  a  solid  mass  of  humanity  beyond 
It  was  not  difficult  to  understand  the  meaning 
of  the  demonstration;  it  was  the  bursting  of 
the  tempest  which  had  been  gathering  for  so 
many  weeks.  Before  me  was  the  banner  of  the 
Streltsi  with  the  face  of  the  Virgin  on  its  broad 
folds,  and  one  of  the  regimental  cannon  had 
been  dragged  half  through  the  gate.  Stepping 
upon  a  projecting  ledge  of  masonry,  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  scene  within,  and  comprehended 
the  situation.  The  boyars  had  been  taken  by 
surprise,  and  their  enemies  were  in  possession 
of  the  Kremlin;  the  gates  that,  once  closed, 
might  have  been  defended  were  in  the  hands  of 
the  Streltsi.  Here  and  there,  in  the  crowd,  I 
saw  the  carriage  of  a  boyar  forced  back  from 


THE  RED    STAIRCASE.  287 

the  gate;  the  rioters  had  unharnessed  all  the 
horses,  killing  some  of  them, — an  action  that 
demonstrated  a  desperate  determination  on  their 
part  to  cage  the  nobility  within  the  walls.  The 
most  conspicuous  weapons  carried  by  the  Streltsi 
were  their  long  handled  spears,  and  I  noticed 
at  once  that  they  had  severed  the  unwieldy 
handles  in  the  middle,  thus  making  them  far 
more  available  and  deadly.  There  was  a  con- 
fused roar  from  the  crowd,  broken  now  and  then 
by  the  shout :  "  They  have  murdered  the  Czare- 
vitch Ivan,  they  have  slain  the  royal  family! 
Give  us  the  traitors ! "  A  seething  mass  of 
savage  faces  and  gleaming  spears. 

Where  was  Zena'ide?  The  thought  of  her 
drove  every  consideration  of  prudence  from  my 
mind.  I  drew  my  sword,  and  leaping  into  the 
mob,  joined  it  in  the  rush  towards  the  Red 
Place.  I  knew  that  if  she  was  in  the  Kremlin 
she  was  probably  with  the  czarina,  for  Narysh- 
kin  would  seek  his  own  safety  in  the  palace.  I 
soon  found  that  I  was  really  only  on  the  margin 
of  the  throng,  for  as  we  approached  the  Red 
Staircase,  the  crush  became  fearful,  and  here  the 
rioters  had  leaped  all  bounds  of  control.  They 
were  crowding  forward,  howling  like  demons; 
on  every  side  the  shouts  for  the  Czarevitch  Ivan 
and  vengeance  on  the  Naryshkins  were  deafen- 


288  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ing.  The  Czarevna  Sophia  had  been  playing 
on  the  credulity  of  the  populace,  and  this  mob 
was  possessed  with  the  idea  that  the  Naryshkins 
were  aiming  at  the  crown,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  the  young  czar  was  of  their  own  blood. 
Pushed  and  beaten  about,  I  had  no  control  over 
my  movements,  and  was  hurled  along  into  the 
Red  Place,  where,  at  last,  we  came  to  a  stand- 
still, for  here  the  main  body  of  the  insurgents 
was  packed  about  the  Red  Staircase,  where  the 
ringleaders  had  been  parleying  with  deputies 
from  the  palace.  When  I  found  myself  in  a 
position  where  I  could  look  about  me,  a  curious 
spectacle  met  my  gaze.  I  was  near  the  center 
of  the  Red  Place,  and  could  not  at  first  hear 
much  of  what  was  passing,  but  could  see  the 
scene  in  front  of  the  palace.  In  the  square  the 
rioters  were,  for  the  moment,  quiet,  and  every 
eye  was  fixed  on  the  group  on  the  balcony. 
The  Princes  Galitsyn,  Tcherkasky,  Havansky, 
and  Sherem^tief  were  there  with  the  patriarch, 
evidently  endeavoring  by  pacific  addresses  to 
quiet  the  mob.  In  the  foreground  stood  the 
Czarina  Natalia,  holding  by  either  hand  the 
Czar  Peter  and  the  Czarevitch  Ivan.  Even  at  a 
distance,  I  could  see  her  deep  agitation;  her 
face  was  as  white  as  marble,  and  she  held  the 
two  boys  close  to  her.  The  contrast  between 


THE  RED  STAIRCASE.  289 

the  young  princes  was  more  marked  than  ever; 
Ivan  cowered  beside  his  step-mother,  manifestly 
terrified  at  the  crisis,  while  the  young  czar  stood 
undaunted,  his  bold,  dark  eye  sweeping  over 
the  crowd  with  an  imperious  glance.  No  doubt 
the  recollections  of  that  day's  pain  and  humili- 
ation increased  the  horrors  of  the  vengeance 
that  he  wreaked  upon  the  Streltsi  in  later  years. 
I  learned  afterwards  that,  by  the  advice  of 
Matveief,  the  czarina  had  brought  out  the  two 
children  to  satisfy  the  rioters  of  their  safety. 
The  sight  of  them  at  that  distance  did  not  con- 
tent the  mob;  and  after  a  moment's  quiet,  they 
made  a  rush  for  the  palace,  and,  by  means  of 
ladders,  some  of  them  clambered  up  to  the  bal- 
cony, pushing  aside  the  patriarch,  who  tried  to 
interpose  his  person  between  them  and  the  im- 
perial family.  It  was  a  moment  of  great  excite- 
ment, and  the  czarina's  nerve  failed.  I  saw  her 
give  one  look  at  the  advancing  mob;  and  then, 
taking  the  two  princes,  she  hurriedly  withdrew, 
her  retreat  precipitating  a  scene  of  terror.  The 
rioters  had  swarmed  up  the  Red  Staircase,  and 
although,  as  yet,  but  little  violence  had  marked 
the  outbreak,  it  was  only  a  question  of  time; 
unless  something  quelled  the  tumult,  nothing 
could  save  the  palace.  I  had  been  too  closely 
hemmed  in  to  move;  but  this  new  rush  gave  me 
19 


2QO  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

an   opportunity  to  advance,  and  I  pushed  on, 
determined  to  reach  the  Czarevna  Sophia.     But 
the  forward  movement  was  halted  by  the  sud- 
den appearance  of  Matveief  upon  the  Red  Stair- 
case.    The  ex-chancellor  had  once  been  one  of 
the  most  popular  commanders  of  the  Streltsi, 
and  his  appearance   had   an  immediate  effect. 
He  was  a  man  not  only  of  great  personal  dig- 
nity, but  of  diplomatic  address,  and  the  moment 
he  began  to  speak,  the  rioters  quieted   down. 
He  appealed  to  them  eloquently  to  be  true  to 
their  reputation  as  loyal  soldiers  of  the  czar, 
assuring  them    of   the  safety  of  the    imperial 
family  and  of  the  absolute  fealty  of  the  Narysh- 
kins,  and  denouncing  the  rumors  which  had  pois- 
oned their  minds  as  absolutely  without  founda- 
tion.    I   could  not   hear   all   his   speech,    but 
could   divine   much   from   his   tones   and   ges- 
tures, and  saw  at  once  that  he  had  grasped  the 
situation,  and  was  handling  it  with  a  dexterity 
worthy  of  the  politician  that  he  was.     It  was 
just  at  the  time  when  a  pebble  could  turn  the 
scale,  and  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  won  the  day. 
The  conclusion  of  his  speech  was  greeted  with 
thundering  applause,  and  for  the  moment  the 
whole   aspect   of    affairs   was   changed.       The 
rioters  began  to  talk  among  themselves,  their 
weapons  were  less  in  evidence,  and,  apparently, 


THE  RED  STAIRCASE.  291 

the  crisis  had  come  and  passed.  But  the  next 
instant  I  saw  that  a  new  danger  threatened. 
Prince  Michael  Dolgoruky,  second  in  command 
of  the  Department  of  the  Streltsi,  appeared  on 
the  Red  Staircase,  and  even  before  he  spoke, 
the  humor  of  the  mob  changed.  The  prince 
was  pompous,  arrogant,  and  especially  ill  fitted 
to  cope  with  the  situation.  He  gave  evidence 
of  his  incompetence  at  once,  by  ordering  the 
rioters  to  disperse,  in  the  tones  of  a  master  re- 
buking them  for  their  insolence,  and,  by  speech 
and  gesture,  provoking  a  storm  of  indignation 
that  burst  on  his  devoted  head.  He  had  scarcely 
ceased  speaking  when,  with  a  yell  of  fury,  they 
rushed  up  the  Red  Staircase  once  more,  and 
seizing  him  by  his  long  robes,  dragged  him 
down  the  stairs. 

The  rabble  had  gone  mad,  and  I  saw  that  the 
worst  had  come.  The  prince  was  hurled  to  the 
ground  and  surrounded  by  a  howling  mob;  a 
moment  later,  his  mutilated  body  was  trodden 
under  foot  as  the  rioters  rushed  on  into  the 
palace.  I  hoped  to  be  carried  in  with  them, 
but  another  pause  checked  us,  and  then  I  saw 
the  cause  of  it.  The  ringleaders  had  found 
Matveief  and  were  dragging  the  white-haired 
chancellor  out  to  the  head  of  the  stairs.  He 
who  a  moment  before  had  enjoyed  their  confi- 


2Q2  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

dence,  was  to  test  the  fickle  passion  of  the 
populace.  The  howls  about  me  were  demonia- 
cal, and  nothing  now  could  curb  the  fury  that 
the  unhappy  Dolgoruky  had  let  loose.  Protest- 
ing and  struggling,  Matveief  was  pushed  to  the 
top  of  the  Red  Staircase  and  thrown  down  upon 
the  spears  of  the  rioters  below.  I  looked  aside; 
I  had  served  in  many  a  battle  under  the  Lilies 
of  France,  but  this  brutal  murder  and  mutila- 
tion of  an  old  man  sickened  me.  The  rabble 
had  tasted  blood,  and  the  scene  that  followed 
was  hideous  beyond  description.  Their  fury 
was  directed  against  the  Naryshkin  party  and 
the  boyars.  As  they  began  the  work  of  slaugh- 
ter, they  broke  up  into  small  parties,  searching 
for  their  prey,  and  there  was  more  space  in  the 
square,  the  crowd,  though  dense  and  furious, 
being  less  packed.  "Down  with  the  Narysh- 
kins !  Give  us  the  traitors  !  "  they  howled,  and 
I  found  that  they  were  determined  to  compel 
the  czarina  to  surrender  her  brothers,  Ivan  and 
Athanasius  Naryshkin,  to  share  the  fate  of  her 
guardian  Matveief. 

For  the  first  time,  somewhat  released  by  the 
throng,  I  was  pushing  my  way  towards  the  Red 
Staircase,  when  a  cry  rose  to  my  right :  "  Here 
is  a  Naryshkin !  Death  to  the  villain ! " 
Springing  aside  to  escape  the  rush,  I  looked  in 


THE  RED  STAIRCASE.  293 

that  direction,  and  saw  that  the  rioters  were 
swarming  about  a  carriage  which  I  had  previ- 
ously observed  hemmed  in  by  the  crowd.  The 
horses  had  been  killed,  and  the  occupants,  if 
there  were  any,  were  at  the  mercy  of  the  mob. 
An  impulse  prompted  me  to  push  forward  for  a 
nearer  view,  and  the  next  moment,  I  dashed 
among  the  insurgents  with  such  impetuosity, 
that  they  gave  way  and  let  me  reach  the  car- 
riage, partly  because  their  fury  was  centered  on 
the  man,  whom  they  had  dragged  out  by  the 
hair  and  were  beating  to  death.  I  had  seen  his 
face  before  a  blow  obliterated  the  features  in 
blood;  it  was  Viatscheslav.  I  knocked  down 
the  rioter  who  was  at  the  door  of  the  coach,  and 
springing  into  it,  gazed  eagerly  at  the  figure 
which  was  shrinking  in  the  corner.  It  was 
Zenalde  Feodorovna. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

IN  THE   FACE   OF   DEATH. 

AT  the  first  moment  she  did  not  know  me, 
but  shrank  away  from  a  supposed  rioter,  her 
white  face  sharply  outlined  against  the  dark 
background. 

"At  last  I  have  found  you,"  I  exclaimed, 
almost  with  joy,  in  spite  of  our  peril. 

She  recognized  my  voice,  and  clung  to  my 
hand  like  a  child. 

"Save  me!"  she  cried  faintly;  "they  will 
tear  me  to  pieces,  as  they  are  tearing  him." 

"  I  will  save  you,"  I  murmured  in  a  low  tone; 
"only  trust  me  and  be  brave." 

I  flung  her  mantle  over  her  head,  veiling  her 
face,  and  opening  the  other  door  of  the  car- 
riage, sprang  boldly  out,  lifting  her  to  the 
ground.  The  rioters  were  still  busy  dispatch- 
ing Viatscheslav,  who  was  not  quite  dead,  and 
they  let  us  take  two  or  three  steps  unmolested, 
then,  with  a  howl,  surrounded  us.  Zenaide 


IN  THE  FACE   OF  DEATH.  295 

shrank  towards  me,  quivering  in  every  limb;  I 
threw  my  left  arm  around  her,  and  in  the  other 
hand  I  held  my  naked  sword. 

"  Here  is  some  of  the  Naryshkin  brood !  "  was 
the  cry.  "Cut  them  down,  there  is  no  room 
here  for  traitors !  " 

"  Stand  back !  "  I  exclaimed  in  a  loud  tone, 
and  the  habit  of  command  served  me  well,  for 
there  was  a  pause.  "  Give  place  here  for  the 
lady;  she  is  a  ward  of  the  Czarevna  Sophia. 
Woe  unto  you  if  you  harm  a  Miloslavsky ! " 

"  He  lies  !  "  exclaimed  one  of  them,  mock- 
ingly;  "this  woman  was  with  Naryshkin.  Who 
is  this  traitor?  One  of  their  minions?  " 

There  was  a  howl  of  fury  from  the  outer  edge 
of  the  crowd,  but  I  kept  the  foremost  back  by 
my  undaunted  front. 

"I  am  the  envoy  of  the  King  of  France,"  I 
said  calmly,  "  and  if  a  hair  of  my  head  is  in- 
jured, Russia  will  have  to  answer  for  it.  Stand 
aside !  I  must  take  this  lady  to  the  czarevna. " 

A  mob  is  like  a  wild  beast,  curbed  by  the 
steadiest  nerve,  and  I  saw  that  I  might  hold 
these  furies  at  bay  just  as  long  as  I  kept  my 
head.  Zenai'de  was  bravely  silent,  but  I  felt 
her  shiver  as  she  leaned  against  me.  The 
worst  aspect  of  it  was  that  the  throng  was 
becoming  larger,  and  at  any  moment  might  be 


ON   THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

beyond  my  control ;  one  of  the  ringleaders  too 
was  disposed  to  have  my  blood. 

"  How  do  we  know  that  the  fellow  is  speak- 
ing the  truth  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Who  knows 
that  he  is  the  envoy  of  the  King  of  France  ?  " 

"He  looks  a  squire  of  dames,"  a  voice  cried 
in  the  crowd,  and  there  was  a  shout  of  derision. 

Another  second,  and  I  could  not  control 
them.  I  ran  my  eye  despairingly  along  the 
ring  of  ferocious  faces.  Suddenly  I  saw  the 
head  of  Michael,  Ramodanof sky's  man,  craned 
over  the  others.  I  hailed  the  sight  with  joy. 

"There  is  one  of  your  own  men  who  knows 
me,"  I  exclaimed,  pointing  at  him. 

He  evidently  divined  the  situation,  if  he  did 
not  recognize  Zenai'de,  and  pushed  forward, 
whispering  something  to  the  ringleaders  that 
damped  their  impetuosity.  But,  even  then, 
we  were  in  great  peril,  until  a  sudden  diversion 
released  us. 

"  There  goes  Peter  Naryshkin  !  "  rose  a  shriek 
to  the  left,  and  the  ring  around  us  dissolved, 
and  they  were  off,  full  cry,  after  the  unfortu- 
nate, whom  they  brutally  murdered,  although 
he  proved  to  be  not  a  Naryshkin,  but  the  son 
of  a  boyar,  Feodor  Soltykof. 

At  the  moment  of  the  break,  I  hurried 
Ze"nalde  away.  The  rioters  had  occupied  the 


IN   THE  FACE  OF  DEATH.  297 

Red  Staircase  and  were  swarming  into  the 
palace,  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  gain  access 
there,  and  it  was  necessary  to  hide  her  at  once 
from  the  sight  of  the  mob.  The  only  refuge 
that  occurred  to  me  was  one  of  the  cathedrals, 
and  with  a  common  impulse,  we  hastened  in  the 
direction  of  the  Church  of  the  Resurrection. 
On  every  side  the  work  of  death  was  going  on, 
and  the  ground  was  slippery  with  blood.  I 
turned  out  of  my  path  that  Ze"naide  might  not 
see  a  hideous  corpse  which  I  recognized,  by  the 
dress  alone,  as  that  of  the  Chancellor  Matveief. 
She  displayed  unusual  courage,  walking  with 
a  firm  step  amid  scenes  of  such  horror  that  they 
sickened  me  —  a  man  and  a  soldier.  I  had 
hoped  that  Michael  might  join  us,  but  he  had 
been  pushed  away  by  the  furious  pursuit  of 
Peter  Naryshkin,  and  I  had  to  depend  on  my 
own  sword  and  my  own  wits  to  bring  her  safe 
through.  Pushed  hither  and  thither  by  the 
surging  crowd,  we  finally  reached  the  rear  of 
the  cathedral.  Here  it  was  comparatively 
quiet,  and  I  paused  to  look  about  for  a  way 
to  enter  without  going  to  the  front,  that  we 
might  escape  the  rioters. 

"There  is  a  postern  to  the  left,"  ZenaYde 
said,  rousing  herself,  and  speaking  in  a  quiet 
voice. 


298  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

She  guided  me  along  the  wall  until  we  came 
to  a  low  door,  and  here  she  knocked  gently. 
They  were  probably  watching  for  fugitives,  for 
it  was  opened  almost  at  once  by  a  white-haired 
priest,  who  let  us  in  silently  and  barred  the  door 
behind  us.  But  even  as  we  entered,  there  was 
a  sound  of  a  fierce  tumult  from  the  front  of  the 
building  which  arrested  our  movements. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  cried  Zenaide,  her  voice  break- 
ing a  little  with  terror,  for  it  was  like  the  roar 
of  wild  beasts.  The  priest  stood  listening,  his 
face  pale. 

"Alas  !  "  he  exclaimed,  as  we  heard  the  outer 
doors  crash  in,  "some  one  must  have  betrayed 
him.  Athanasius  Naryshkin  is  hidden  under 
the  altar.  If  they  find  him,  nothing  can  save 
him." 

He  rushed  towards  the  curtained  alcove  be- 
hind the  altar,  through  which  he  could  enter 
the  chancel,  and  leaving  Ze"nai'de  for  a  moment, 
I  followed  him.  It  was  too  late  to  do  anything 
to  rescue  Naryshkin ;  not  even  the  priests  could 
save  him  by  appealing  to  the  sanctity  of  the 
house  of  God.  It  was  a  horrid  scene ;  the  outer 
doors  had  been  forced,  and  the  church  was 
crowded  with  a  frantic  mob.  The  light  in  the 
cathedral  was  dim,  but  those  terrible  blood- 
stained faces  stood  out  against  the  gloomy 


IN  THE  FACE   OF  DEATH.  299 

background  with  awful  distinctness,  and  the 
blood  dripped  from  their  spears  upon  the  floor. 
On  the  altar  steps  stood  a  figure  which  I  recog- 
nized with  righteous  indignation,  and  regret 
that  I  had  not  slain  him.  It  was  the  diminutive 
apelike  form  of  Homyak,  and  it  was  he  who  had 
directed  the  movements  of  the  searching  party, 
his  the  first  yell  of  triumph  as  they  dragged  the 
czarina's  unfortunate  brother  from  under  the 
altar.  The  sight  of  the  defenseless  man  in  the 
hands  of  these  wretches  fired  my  blood,  and  I 
sprang  forward ;  but  a  young  priest  caught  me 
in  his  arms  and  pressed  me  back  towards  the 
alcove. 

"  Fool !  "  he  whispered  in  my  ear;  "there  are 
eight  hundred  men  in  the  nave,  you  cannot  save 
him.  It  is  death  to  go  down  the  steps." 

I  realized  that  he  had  rescued  me,  but  it  fren- 
zied me  to  hear  Naryshkin's  death-cry.  Already 
a  dozen  spears  had  been  struck  into  his  quiver- 
ing flesh,  and  he  writhed,  dying,  on  th«  floor  of 
the  cathedral.  The  thought  of  Z6na'fde  recalled 
me  to  my  senses,  and  I  hurried  back  to  her. 

"Come,"  I  said,  "the  church  is  in  the  hands 
of  the  mob,  and  we  cannot  hide  here." 

I  unfastened  the  door,  and  we  emerged  upon  a 
quiet  scene,  for  the  rioters  were  all  at  the  front 
of  the  building  or  within  it.  While  I  hesi- 


3OO  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

tated  upon  my  next  step,  Zenaide  came  nearer 
to  me  and  grasped  my  sleeve. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  said, "have  you  seen 
Mademoiselle  Eudoxie?  Do  you  know  where 
she  is?" 

I  started ;  I  had  entirely  forgotten  the  good 
woman. 

"She  is  in  the  Ramodanof sky  house, "  I  re- 
plied; I  had  been  on  the  point  of  saying  "your 
father's  house,"  but  recollected  in  time  not  to 
shock  her  with  the  sudden  revelation. 

"  Holy  Virgin !  "  she  cried,  "  they  are  mur- 
dering the  boyars ;  they  will  go  there  and  kill 
her.  We  must  save  her." 

The  truth  of  what  she  said  had  already 
dawned  upon  me,  but  I  could  not  help  made- 
moiselle while  Zenaide  was  in  such  peril. 

"As  soon  as  you  are  safe,"  I  said,  "I  will  go 
and  protect  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie." 

But  she  was  animated  by  the  spirit  of  her 
race,  and  her  womanly  fears  had  subsided  at 
the  thought  of  another's  danger. 

"I  will  go  now,  M.  de  Brousson,"  she  ex- 
claimed, her  eyes  shining  with  a  determined 
fire.  "We  can  get  out;  the  crowd  has  been 
drawn  away  from  yonder  gate.  We  cannot  go 
back.  Hear  them  howl  about  the  palace! 
What  is  it  that  they  are  shouting  now?  " 


IN  THE  FACE   OF  DEATH.  301 

I  bent  my  head  and  listened.  Distinctly  I 
heard  Von  Gaden's  name  coupled  with  cries  of 
"traitor"  and  "poison." 

"They  want  the  physician's  life,"  Ze"na'ide 
said ;  "  I  heard  them,  before  you  came,  crying 
for  him,  saying  that  he  had  murdered  the  Czar 
Feodor.  But  come,  M.  le  Vicomte,  we  have 
not  a  moment  to  lose." 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  cried  in  a  fever  of  anx- 
iety, "you  cannot  go,  you  must  not  go!  It  is 
dangerous  —  perhaps  certain  death  —  " 

She  stopped,  and  turned  to  look  at  me ;  her 
mantle  had  fallen  back  so  that  I  could  see 
plainly  the  pale,  beautiful  face,  the  brilliant 
light  in  the  blue  eyes. 

"M.  de  Brousson,"  she  said,  in  a  low  tone, 
"I  am  wrong  to  imperil  your  life.  Leave  me; 
I  must  go  and  save  her,  but  it  is  too  much  to 
ask  of  you." 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  remonstrated,  "do  not 
imagine  that  I  would  fail  to  do  my  duty  because 
of  any  personal  risk.  If  I  have  ever  served  you, 
forbear  such  a  taunt  as  that." 

"Pardon  me,"  she  murmured  faintly;  "I 
spoke  in  haste,  but  —  " 

I  had  drawn  her  arm  through  mine. 

"Come,  mademoiselle,"  I  said,  and  hurried 
her  on,  without  another  word,  towards  the  gate 


302  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

nearest  us,  all  the  while  listening  to  the  yells 
of  rage  and  triumph  behind.  They  were  drag- 
ging the  hideously  mutilated  bodies  of  their 
victims,  Matveief,  the  Naryshkins,  and  many 
more,  across  the  square  with  the  spears  still 
sticking  in  them,  and  I  could  hear  the  cries: 
"  Here  goes  the  Boyar  Artemon  Sergheievitch 
Matveief!"  "Here  goes  a  privy-councillor!" 
Zenaide  heard  and  understood,  for  she  shud- 
dered; but  nothing  stayed  our  course.  Every 
moment  was  precious,  and  we  moved  along  as 
rapidly  as  we  dared.  To  run  would  have  been 
a  fatal  way  of  attracting  attention,  for  even  here 
there  were  groups  of  rioters  apparently  search- 
ing for  victims;  and  as  we  neared  the  gate,  a 
howl  to  the  left  made  us  both  turn,  only  to  see 
them  strike  down  a  white-haired  councillor.  If 
I  had  been  without  Zena'fde,  the  old  man  would 
not  have  fallen  without  a  blow  in  his  defense; 
but  her  helplessness  tied  my  hands,  although 
my  blood  boiled  at  the  sight.  The  rabble  was 
frenzied  with  the  taste  of  slaughter,  and  burn- 
ing with  the  thirst  for  vengeance  for  many 
bitter  wrongs.  Never,  for  a  moment,  did  I 
doubt  the  justice  of  most  of  the  complaints  of 
the  Streltsi.  They  had  suffered,  in  common 
with  all  of  the  lower  classes  of  Russia,  and  now 
that  they  could  strike  a  blow  in  revenge,  it  was 


IN  THE  FACE   OF  DEATH.  303 

very  sweet  to  them.  The  murder  of  the  aged 
official  was  fortunate  for  us,  drawing  all  atten- 
tion to  that  spot,  and  so  permitting  us  to  escape. 
Once  out  of  the  Kremlin,  we  breathed  more 
freely.  At  that  time  the  riot  was  confined 
within  the  walls  of  the  fortress,  and  the  streets 
were  comparatively  quiet ;  it  was  not  for  some 
hours  that  they  broke  loose,  pursuing  their  ene- 
mies into  the  city,  and  even  searching  the  houses 
of  the  foreigners.  The  quiet  which  seemed  to 
prevail  without  encouraged  the  hope  that  we 
might  reach  Ramoxlanof  sky's  house  and  get 
Mademoiselle  Etidoxie  away  unmolested.  We 
had  been  walking  very  fast,  and  I  noticed  that 
Zenaide  looked  exhausted,  and  slackened  my 
pace. 

"Not  so  fast,  mademoiselle,"  I  said;  "it  is 
not  now  so  imperative,  and  I  do  not  believe 
that  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  is  in  peril  as  yet. 
We  shall  be  there  in  good  time." 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  linger  a  moment,  M.  le 
Vicomte,"  she  replied,  in  a  tone  of  anxiety; 
"I  have  seen  too  much  of  horror  to  risk  poor 
mademoiselle ;  and  besides  my  uncle  —  " 

She  paused,  as  if  unwilling  to  finish  the  sen- 
tence, and  I  was  almost  startled ;  I  had  forgot- 
ten that  she  did  not  know  of  Vladimir's  death, 
and  I  saw  that  I  must  prepare  her  for  the  com- 


304  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

ing  revelation,  for  the  Boyar  Feodor  might  be 
in  his  own  house,  although  I  doubted  it. 

"  Your  uncle  will  never  trouble  you  again, 
mademoiselle,"  I  remarked  quietly. 

She  started  and  stared  at  me  with  a  sudden 
revulsion  of  feeling;  I  knew  that  she  fancied 
him  among  the  mutilated  bodies  in  the 
Kremlin. 

"Did  you  see  it?  "  she  exclaimed  faintly. 

"You  misunderstand,  mademoiselle,"  I  re- 
plied; "he  was  not  murdered  yonder.  He  died 
—  by  —  by  accident  in  his  own  house  yesterday. 
I  witnessed  the  end.  There  was  none  of  the 
violence  you  feared." 

She  looked  at  me  wonderingly,  evidently 
unable  to  grasp  the  change  that  had  taken  place 
so  suddenly:  her  uncle  and  her  detested  be- 
trothed both  removed  so  swiftly  from  her  path. 

"  You  witnessed  his  death,  M.  de  Brousson  ?  " 
she  said  slowly;  "I  do  not  understand." 

Then  I  told  her,  as  gently  as  I  could,  of  my 
search  for  her,  and  the  visit  to  Ramodanofsky, 
and  of  the  fatal  cup  of  vodka. 

"Yes,"  she  said  quietly,  "I  knew  that  he 
kept  deadly  poisons  —  eastern  poisons  —  in  that 
cabinet.  It  is  strange  how  swiftly  come  the 
retributions.  And  the  mirror  which  saved  you, 
I  love  it  so  well.  It  was  my  mother's;  she 


JN  THE  FACE   OF  DEATH.  305 

brought  it  with  her  from  France.  How  little 
she  dreamed  that  it  would  save  a  Frenchman's 
life!" 

And  avenge  her,  I  thought,  wondering  not 
a  little  how  much  Zena'ide  recollected  of  the 
tragedy  of  the  past. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  gently,  "can  you  re- 
call your  childhood?  Do  you  remember  your 
mother  —  or  your  father?  " 

"I  cannot  tell,"  she  replied  thoughtfully; 
"  my  mind  is  confused  about  it.  I  cannot  sepa- 
rate what  I  may  remember  from  what  the  old 
servants  may  have  told  me.  I  was  so  young 
when  my  mother  died,  I  could  not  remember, 
of  course,  and  I  was  not  so  much  older  at  my 
father's  death." 

"At  your  father's  death,"  I  repeated  slowly; 
"  is  your  father  really  dead,  then  ?  " 

She  glanced  at  me  in  wide-eyed  amazement. 
"Did  you  not  know  it,  monsieur?  " 

"  I  knew  that  your  uncle  said  that  he  was 
dead,"  I  replied  quietly,  watching  her  agitated 
face. 

She  stood  still,  gazing  at  me  strangely. 

"Tell  me  all,  M.  le  Vicomte!"  she  ex- 
claimed, her  breath  coming  quickly;  "you 
know  something  —  what  is  it?" 

"Mademoiselle,"    I    replied    gently,     "you 
20 


306  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

know  what  the  Boyar  Vladimir  was;  can  you 
not  imagine  that  he  would  easily  wrong  even 
his  own  brother? " 

Her  face  was  very  pale.  "  Yes, "  she  returned 
slowly;  "but  I  never  dreamed  that  he  had 
wronged  my  father.  Did  —  did  he  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  his  death?  " 

I  took  both  her  hands  in  mine. 

"Zena'fde  Feodorovna, "  I  said  tenderly, 
"your  father  is  not  dead;  he  lives,  and  is  in 
Moscow." 

I  had  feared  that  she  might  faint,  but  I  had 
forgotten  that  to  her  "father"  was  but  a  name. 
She  was  deeply  moved,  but  she  commanded 
herself,  and  in  a  few  moments  was  walking  on 
beside  me. 

"  Where  is  he  now  ?  "  she  asked  after  a  while, 
her  voice  shaken  with  a  new  and  deep  emotion. 

"He  was  at  his  own  home,  mademoiselle,"  I 
replied ;  "  but  now  I  cannot  tell,  except  that  he 
must  be  safe,  for  he  is  of  the  Miloslavsky  party, 
and  has  great  influence,  I  believe,  with  the 
Streltsi." 

Zena'fde  did  not  reply;  I  think  that  it  flashed 
upon  her  that  if  the  brothers  were  cast  in  sim- 
ilar mold,  her  father  might  be  engaged  in  the 
bloody  work  at  the  Kremlin,  — a  thought  that 
had  occurred  to  me  since  I  had  seen  Michael  in 


IN  THE  FACE   OF  DEATH.  307 

the  mob.  We  walked  on  in  silence,  approach- 
ing the  house  at  last  without  having  met  one  of 
the  rioters.  To  my  surprise,  the  gates  were 
open,  and  we  entered  the  empty  court.  It 
occurred  to  us  both  that  this  silence  and  deser- 
tion was  strange ;  and  Zena'ide,  running  on  ahead 
of  me,  tried  the  great  doors,  and  finding  them 
fastened,  we  passed  around  to  the  postern  in 
the  win g. 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

LOVE  AND   FIRE. 

THE  postern  was  also  fastened,  and  Zenai'de 
knocked  repeatedly  without  effect. 

"The  house  is  deserted,"  she  said,  turning  a 
frightened  look  upon  me;  "where  can  made- 
moiselle be?  What  has  happened?  " 

I  was  puzzled  myself,  and  at  loss  to  answer 
her. 

"There  must  be  some  way  to  get  in,"  I  said, 
examining  the  windows. 

One  to  the  right  of  the  door  was  not  securely 
shuttered,  and  I  got  it  open  with  but  little 
difficulty,  and  climbed  in.  I  found  the  postern 
securely  barred,  and  opening  it,  admitted 
Ze"na~ide.  Together  we  went  up  the  stairs  to 
mademoiselle's  room,  only  to  find  it  vacant. 
The  whole  house  seemed  as  silent  as  the  grave. 
Hurriedly  we  searched  the  place,  opening  door 
after  door,  only  to  discover  silence  and  solitude. 
Not  a  sound  greeted  our  ears,  not  a  sign  re- 
mained of  habitation  other  than  the  furniture, 


LOVE  AND  FIRE.  309 

already  lightly  coated  with  the  dust  which  had 
been  gathering  since  the  night  of  Zenalde's 
flight.  Going  into  the  main  building,  our 
search  was  equally  fruitless ;  descending  to  the 
kitchen  and  even  the  cellar,  we  found  no  trace 
of  either  mademoiselle  or  the  boyar.  Yet 
there  was  no  indication  of  violence,  the  house 
had  not  been  attacked ;  it  was  as  quiet  and  un- 
disturbed as  it  was  desolate.  We  had  scarcely 
spoken  to  each  other;  but  now,  as  we  returned 
a  second  time  to  mademoiselle's  room,  Z&iaide 
broke  the  silence. 

"I  cannot  understand  it,"  she  said  thought- 
fully; "there  was  no  safer  place  for  mademoi- 
selle, and  it  could  not  be  that  she  went  out  on 
such  a  day,  for  they  must  have  known  of  the 
riot  here  before  the  mob  reached  the  Kremlin." 

"She  must  be  safe,"  I  replied  reassuringly; 
"this  house  has  not  been  disturbed,  and  she 
must  have  left  it  voluntarily. " 

"  I  do  not  think  she  can  have  gone  to  seek 
me;  mademoiselle  is  far  too  timid,"  she  said 
musingly.  "I  have  brought  you  on  a  fool's 
errand,  M.  le  Vicomte;  but,  at  least,  we  are 
out  of  danger. " 

"Mademoiselle,  you  are  unkind,"  I  retorted 
quickly,  thinking  of  her  rebuke  to  my  caution 
in  the  Kremlin. 


3IO  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

She  started,  and  the  blood  rushed  over  her 
fair  face. 

"I  beg  a  thousand  pardons,  M.  le  Vicomte," 
she  faltered.  "  I  never  intended  an  attack  upon 
your  courage ;  I  owe  it  far  too  much.  I  can 
never  thank  you  enough  for  my  deliverance." 

"It  came  from  higher  hands  than  mine,  made- 
moiselle," I  replied  gravely,  watching  the  color 
flushing  her  downcast  face.  "Vengeance  was 
taken  out  of  the  reach  of  my  sword,  and  now 
you  will  be  safe  in  a  father's  care." 

I  added  this  to  note  the  effect,  and  saw  anx- 
iety cloud  her  expression.  This  unknown 
father  was  another  source  of  perplexity.  We 
were  both  absorbed  in  our  own  thoughts  and 
emotions,  and  had  not  heeded  the  sounds  which 
must  have  been  approaching,  for  we  were  now 
startled  by  the  roar  of  a  mob.  I  sprang  to  the 
window  and  looked  out,  at  first  seeing  nothing; 
but  the  noise  was  only  too  near,  the  rabble  was 
evidently  in  the  street  in  front  and  in  the  lane 
behind  the  house,  for,  on  every  side,  rose  the 
shouts  and  screams  of  the  angry  populace. 

"What  can  have  brought  them  this  way?" 
Ze'na'ide  cried,  coming  to  the  window;  but  I 
pulled  her  back  out  of  sight,  for  I  had  seen  the 
foremost  of  the  rioters  crowding  into  the  court. 
Without  a  word,  I  ran  down  and  saw  that  the 


LOVE  AATD  FIRE.  31 1 

postern  and  lower  windows  were  secure,  and 
then  returned.  Zena'ide  was  standing  out  of 
sight,  but  where  she  could  look  from  the  win- 
dow upon  the  court,  which  was  filling  fast. 

"What  can  they  want?  "  she  whispered,  as  if 
afraid  that  they  would  hear  her  voice. 

I  thought  I  knew,  remembering  that  Vladi- 
mir's death  was  not  known,  nor  Feeder's  iden- 
tity. I  knew  that  the  dead  boyar  had  been 
bitterly  hated  by  the  lower  classes,  that  he 
had  been  intimate  with  one  or  more  of  the 
colonels  of  the  Streltsi  who  had  been  scourged. 
He  had  been  identified  with  the  Naryshkins, 
and  this,  with  the  fact  that  he  was  a  per- 
fect type  of  the  arrogant  boyar,  was  enough  to 
excite  the  fury  of  the  mob,  whose  taste  for 
blood  had  only  been  excited,  and  not  slaked, 
by  the  carnival  of  murder  at  the  Kremlin. 
What  evil  fate  had  induced  me  to  linger  a 
moment  in  this  house?  I  saw  my  folly  too 
late,  and  looked  at  Ze"na'fde  with  the  keenest 
apprehension  and  self-reproach.  How  could  I 
save  her?  I  was  reflecting  upon  some  means  of 
rescuing  her.  They  had  already  begun  to 
clamor  for  admittance,  and  no  door  could  resist 
them  long.  I  must  find  some  way  to  delay 
their  entrance,  to  give  the  Boyar  Ramodanof- 
sky  time  to  come  to  our  relief,  for  I  felt  sure 


312  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

that  he  had  some  influence  with  the  rioters. 
The  house  was  completely  surrounded,  and 
I  could  think  of  no  way  of  getting  Zena'ide 
out  with  any  chance  of  escape.  Meanwhile,  I 
heard  the  resounding  blows  upon  the  main  en- 
trance replied  to  with  similar  ones  on  the  pos- 
tern and  the  kitchen  door.  No  time  could  be 
lost. 

"Stay  here,  mademoiselle,"  I  said;  "I  must 
speak  to  those  in  front,  and  so  draw  off  the 
canaille  from  the  other  entrances. " 

"You  are  mad,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  ex- 
claimed; "your  presence  will  merely  excite 
the  mob.  If  we  must  die,  let  it  be  by  our  own 
hands;  I  cannot  fall  into  theirs  alive." 

She  stood  in  the  center  of  the  room,  her  face 
white  and  composed,  and  her  blue  eyes  gleam- 
ing with  the  fire  of  her  race.  I  saw  that,  in  the 
extremity,  she  would  meet  death  with  the  reso- 
lution of  a  soldier's  daughter.  I  had  never 
loved  her  more  than  at  that  moment,  when  I 
saw  her  stand  there,  facing  death,  and  a  peril 
worse  than  death,  with  the  unfaltering  courage 
of  a  noble  soul.  I  took  her  hand  in  mine  and 
kissed  it. 

"Mademoiselle,"  I  said  in  a  low  voice,  "I 
swear  to  you  that  you  shall  not  fall  into  their 
hands  alive." 


LOVE  AND  FIRE.  313 

She  did  not  withdraw  her  hand,  and  her  blue 
eyes  looked  steadily  into  mine. 

"  I  thank  you  from  my  heart, "  she  said 
firmly;  "I  can  die  cheerfully,  as  becomes  a 
Ramodanofsky. " 

Below,  the  blows  upon  the  door  seemed  to 
shake  the  house  itself.  I  left  her  and  went  to 
the  window  over  the  door;  opening  the  shut- 
ters, I  leaped  upon  the  sill.  In  a  moment  some 
one  saw  me,  and  there  was  a  yell,  followed  by  a 
hoarse  roar  from  the  mob  gathering,  as  I  had 
anticipated,  beneath  the  window  to  watch  me. 
It  was  a  large  party  of  rioters ;  the  courtyard 
was  crowded,  and  they  overflowed  into  the  street. 
The  foremost  of  the  party  had  just  secured  a 
heavy  beam,  and  were  preparing  to  use  it  as  a 
battering-ram  against  the  door  beneath ;  but  at 
the  sight  of  me  overhead,  they  paused  to  stare 
and  listen.  There  were  some  of  the  Streltsi  as 
ringleaders,  but  a  large  portion  was  the  off- 
scouring  of  the  city,  ripe  for  mischief  and 
rapine;  armed  with  spears  and  hatchets  and 
clubs,  their  faces  perfect  types  of  low  ferocity; 
arrested  in  their  attack  only  for  the  moment, 
and  furious  at  the  delay.  It  was  a  sight  to 
freeze  a  man's  blood  to  face  it  alone,  and  with 
the  thought  of  the  young  girl  behind  me,  it 
drove  me  mad.  A  lamb  at  the  mercy  of 


314  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

hyenas !  Before  I  could  speak,  they  began  to 
shout  to  me  to  come  down  and  unfasten  the 
door. 

"We  have  come  to  see  the  Boyar  Vladimir 
Sergheievitch  Ramodanofsky !  "  they  cried 
mockingly;  "and  if  we  are  not  presently  made 
welcome,  he  will  find  our  greeting  warm." 

I  made  a  gesture  to  them  to  listen,  and  there 
was  a  momentary  pause,  more  dreadful  perhaps 
than  their  cries,  and  I  could  see  their  savage 
faces  and  their  bloody  hands. 

"  The  Boyar  Vladimir  Sergheievitch  is  dead," 
I  said,  in  a  loud  voice ;  "  he  died  by  his  own 
hand  yesterday,  and  there  is  no  one  here." 

A  howl  of  baffled  fury  and  derision  greeted 
my  announcement;  I  saw  that  they  did  not 
believe  me. 

"Open  the  door,  good  fellow!"  shrieked  a 
leader,  derisively,  "so  that  we  can  attend  the 
funeral.  The  boyar  loved  the  people ;  let  the 
people  have  his  body." 

"I  swear  to  you  that  the  boyar  is  dead,"  I 
shouted,  "and  his  body  is  not  here.  I  know 
not  where  they  have  taken  it. " 

"We  will  find  it!  We  will  find  it!"  they 
howled,  and  I  saw  that  I  was  no  longer  holding 
them,  but  that  some  were  breaking  away  and 
running  to  either  side  of  the  house.  Only  the 


LOVE  AND  FIRE.  315 

group  in  front  remained,  staring  at  me  and 
mocking  me  with  hideous  grimaces,  made  more 
horrid  by  the  smears  of  blood  upon  their  grimy 
faces. 

"Why  do  you  listen  to  him?"  shouted  a 
voice  on  the  outskirts.  "This  is  the  same 
fellow  who  took  the  woman  out  of  Naryshkin's 
carriage." 

"Ramodan  of  sky's  niece!"  they  screamed, 
with  sudden  inspiration;  "she  was  betrothed 
to  that  devil  Viatscheslav !  The  fellow  has 
her  here!" 

That  brought  them  howling  under  the 
window. 

"Open  the  door!"  they  cried  to  me,  "or  we 
will  tear  you  limb  from  limb  when  we  get  in ! 
No  more  lies  for  us !  We  will  have  them  all !  " 

I  shouted  to  them  that  they  were  mistaken; 
but  my  voice  was  drowned  in  the  tumult,  and 
the  stones  began  to  rain  like  hail.  I  felt  a  pull 
at  my  cloak,  and  turning,  saw  Z^naYcle.  She 
had  followed  me,  and  heard  it  all. 

"It  is  useless,"  she  said,  in  a  quiet  voice; 
"kill  me  now,  M.  le  Vicomte." 

I  looked  below,  and  saw  them  placing  the 
improvised  battering-ram  against  the  door,  and 
then  I  jumped  down  beside  her. 

"  Not  yet,  Zenaide  !  "  I  cried,  with  a  break  in 


316  Off  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

my  voice,  for  I  could  not  bear  to  look  upon 
her  pale  and  lovely  face.  "  There  may  yet  be 
a  chance.  Take  one  of  my  pistols,  and  let  us 
find  a  refuge  if  we  can." 

I  took  her  hand  in  mine  and  found  that  it  did 
not  even  tremble,  although  as  cold  as  death. 
Leading  her,  I  found  an  upper  room,  and  waited 
there  to  meet  our  fate.  It  was  a  moment  of 
agony  for  both,  and  she  clung  to  my  arm  like 
a  child. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  faltered  suddenly, 
while  we  waited  in  that  quiet  spot,  "I  blame 
myself;  I  should  not  have  led  you  here.  It  is 
awful  to  die  such  a  death." 

I  drew  her  closer  to  me  and  looked  down 
upon  her  face  so  near  my  own. 

"But  we  shall  die  together,"  I  said  softly, 
and  our  eyes  meeting,  I  read  the  truth  in  hers. 
"Z6naide, "  I  whispered,  "you  know  that  I  love 
you?" 

"Yes,"  she  murmured  faintly,  "I  know  it, 
Philippe;  and  still  —  we  must  die." 

"Together,  sweetheart,"  I  replied,  kissing 
her;  "united  in  life  and  death." 

And  thus  our  troth  was  plighted.  And  then 
a  new  terror  smote  us ;  a  tiny  wreath  of  smoke 
came  curling  in  at  the  open  door. 

"They  have  fired  the  house,"  Ze"nai'de  said 


LOVE  AND  FIRE.  317 

quietly,  raising  her  head  from  my  breast,  and 
looking  at  me  with  horror  growing  in  her 
eyes. 

I  went  out  at  the  door  and  looked  down  the 
hall.  The  odor  of  burning  was  unmistakable. 
I  could  hear  the  crashing  of  the  outer  door  and 
the  roar  of  the  mob  below.  The  fire  was  in 
the  rear,  and  I  knew  that  the  stragglers  whom 
I  had  seen  leaving  the  crowd  in  front  had  fired 
the  wings.  I  could  hear  the  crackle  of  flames, 
even  above  the  tumult,  and  the  blue  smoke  was 
creeping  up  in  thin  spiral  waves. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

MICHAEL'S   REVENGE. 

ZENAIDE  came  and  stood  beside  me,  and  we 
watched  those  blue  wreaths  increase  until  the 
foot  of  the  staircase  was  clouded,  and  we  had  to 
draw  back  for  a  breath  of  air. 

"Let  us  go  to  the  window,  Philippe,"  she 
said  in  that  quiet  tone  which  seemed  to  voice 
her  despair.  "  It  is  horrible,  but  perhaps  it  is 
better  than  to  perish  by  their  hands  or  our 
own." 

"Alas,  my  love!"  I  exclaimed  hoarsely,  "it 
is  but  a  choice  of  evils,  and  how  bitter  it  is  to 
die  at  such  a  time !  If  it  were  not  for  you,  I 
think  I  could  face  it  cheerfully  —  I  —  " 

She  put  her  hand  on  my  arm  and  looked  up 
with  a  wonderful  tenderness  in  her  face. 

"Remember  your  own  words,  Philippe,"  she 
said  softly;  "we  can  die  together." 

I  clasped  her  in  my  arms,  and  we  stood  lis- 
tening to  the  tumult  below ;  the  mob  was  loose, 
and  the  house  was  being  searched.  Their 


MICHAEL'S  REVENGE.  319 

cries  of  rage  and  triumph  came  up  to  us,  and 
all  the  while  the  smoke  increased.  How  long 
could  it  last?  And  which  would  find  us  first? 
A  sudden  noise  at  the  other  end  of  the  hall 
startled  us ;  doors  were  opened  and  closed,  and 
an  uneven  step  came  rushing  on.  They  were 
coming.  We  looked  into  each  other's  eyes. 
"Now,  Philippe!"  she  whispered,  touching  my 
weapon. 

"  Oh,  man  Dieu  !  "  I  cried,  "  how  can  I  do  it  ?  " 

"It  is  better,"  she  said,  her  white  face  quiv- 
ering; "you  swore  it,  Philippe.  Oh,  my  love, 
adieu ! " 

She  kissed  me  of  her  own  accord  and  then 
stepped  back.  "Be  quick,  Philippe!"  she 
cried. 

The  footsteps  were  near  at  hand.  Even  in 
my  agony,  I  listened ;  there  was  but  one  man. 
If  she  must  die,  her  life  should  cost  them  dear. 
I  made  a  sign  to  her,  and  kept  my  eyes  upon 
the  door;  my  pistol  was  ready  cocked.  The 
first  rioter  who  crossed  that  threshold  would  be 
a  dead  man.  At  that  instant  I  heard  a  voice, 
a  familiar  voice:  — 

"  M.  de  Brousson  !  M.  le  Vicomte ! "  it  called 
almost  at  the  door;  and  in  a  moment  Pierrot 
stood  before  us,  —  Pierrot,  covered  with  dust 
and  blood,  but  stolidly  respectful  still. 


320  OsV  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"The  saints  be  praised  !  "  he  cried;  "we  had 
given  you  up  for  lost. " 

The  relief  was  so  great  that  at  the  first  I  had 
no  words  to  utter.  At  the  sound  of  a  friendly 
French  voice  Zenaide  had  broken  down,  and 
stood  there  quivering  from  head  to  foot. 

"  How  came  you  here  ?  "  I  exclaimed,  at  last. 

"With  the  Boyar  Ramodanofsky,"  Pierrot 
replied.  "  And  we  have  not  a  moment  to  lose, 
M.  le  Vicomte ;  the  house  is  burning  in  the 
kitchen  wing.  Come  down  as  quickly  as  you 
can." 

"The  rioters!"  gasped  Zena'fde,  looking  at 
him  in  amazement. 

"The  boyar  can  get  us  through,"  Pierrot 
said ;  and  then,  to  my  astonishment,  I  noticed 
that  he  wore  the  full  uniform  of  the  Streltsi. 

Some  one  else  was  coming  along  the  hall, 
and  he  stood  aside  to  let  the  new-comer  enter- 
Zenaide  saw  him  before  I  did,  and  from  her 
eyes  I  knew  who  it  was.  Feodor  Sergheievitch 
came  in  as  easily  as  if  such  scenes  were  his 
daily  experiences.  But  at  the  sight  of  his 
daughter,  he  paused,  looking  at  her  strangely; 
and  for  the  first  time,  I  realized  that  he  had  not 
seen  her  since  she  was  a  child. 

"It  is  your  father,  Zenaide,"  I  exclaimed. 

"The  image  of  her  mother,"  he  said,  as  if 


MICHAEL'S  REVENGE.  $21 

to  himself.  Then,  without  another  word,  he 
lifted  her  in  his  arms.  "Follow  me,  M.  de 
Brousson,"  he  said  calmly;  "the  fire  will  cut 
off  the  stairs  in  five  minutes." 

And  he  went  out  with  his  daughter  in  his 
arms,  Zenai'de  looking  over  his  shoulder  at  me 
with  imploring  eyes.  He  carried  her  as  easily 
as  he  would  have  carried  an  infant,  and  led  the 
way,  Pierrot  and  I  following  closely.  The  hall 
was  thick  with  smoke,  and  I  saw  why  he  had 
wasted  no  time  in  words.  It  was  life  or  death, 
and  I  could  not  but  admire  his  iron  composure, 
even  while  I  fretted  that  the  task  of  protecting 
Zenai'de  had  been  taken  from  me  by  one  who 
had  a  better  right.  He  took  us  towards  the 
other  side  of  the  house  and  descended  the  stairs 
by  the  rooms  that  had  been  mademoiselle's. 
Every  step  brought  us  nearer  to  the  howling 
demons  below,  and  I  saw  Zenalde's  hands 
clutch  his  shoulders  as  if  she  doubted  his 
ability  to  face  the  mob;  but  he  never  paused; 
down,  down  we  went.  Pierrot  and  I  had  drawn 
our  swords,  but  both  Feodor's  arms  were  about 
his  daughter,  and  his  stern  face  set  with  a  reso- 
lution that  no  peril  could  shake.  We  could 
hear  the  rioters  breaking  furniture  and  smash- 
ing glass,  and  now  and  then  their  voices 
rose  in  fierce  profane  contention  over  some  cov- 

21 


322  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

eted  spoil.  They  were  crowding  into  this  wing, 
for  the  fire  was  eating  its  way  through  the  rest 
of  the  house,  and  even  here  the  smoke  was 
crawling  in.  Another  turn,  and  we  could  see 
below.  It  was  a  wild  scene.  The  contents 
of  the  rooms,  smashed  and  heaped  together, 
were  being  thrown  into  the  hall,  and  a  group  of 
rioters  were  dragging  out  a  cask  of  liquor  from 
the  cellar.  Two  or  three  brawny  fellows  were 
coming  in  at  the  door  as  the  boyar  advanced 
towards  it.  I  tightened  my  grip  on  my  sword, 
expecting  that  we  should  have  to  cut  our  way 
through;  but  Ramodanofsky  swept  on  without 
hesitation,  and  they  stood  perplexed,  not  know- 
ing what  to  do. 

"  Stand  aside !  "  he  thundered. 

"Why  so  fast,  master?"  one  of  them  ex- 
claimed insolently. 

"  Hush ! "  cried  another,  plucking  at  his 
sleeve,  "  it  is  Lykof. " 

"  Stand  aside,  in  the  name  of  the  Czar  Ivan 
Alexeivitch ! "  exclaimed  the  disguised  boyar; 
and  to  my  surprise,  they  let  us  pass,  although 
they  stared  angrily  at  me,  as  if  uncertain  of 
their  recognition. 

There  were  only  a  few  stragglers  in  the  court, 
and  keeping  close  together,  we  followed  Ramo- 
danofsky to  a  low  gate  behind  the  wing  that  I 


MICHAEL'S  REVENGE.  323 

had  never  seen.  It  was  already  unfastened, 
and  we  passed  out  into  a  narrow  and  deserted 
alley.  As  soon  as  we  were  safely  beyond  the 
gate,  the  boyar  placed  Zenai'de  on  her  feet  and 
spoke  a  few  words  to  her,  which  I  did  not  hear; 
but  I  saw  her  glance  up  into  his  eyes  with  a 
look  of  awakening  feeling.  He  drew  her  hand 
through  his  arm  and  walked  on  more  slowly. 
Meanwhile,  I  had  been  reflecting  upon  the 
situation,  and  quickening  my  steps,  I  joined 
them. 

"  Have  you  a  refuge  selected,  M.  Ramodan- 
ofsky  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  It  is  my  intention,  if  possible,  to  reach  the 
Kremlin,  and  place  Z6nalde  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  Czarevna  Sophia,"  he  replied  with 
some  hesitation. 

"That  is  hardly  possible  now,"  I  said  at 
once.  "Come  to  my  quarters,  monsieur;  I 
think  that  they  will  scarcely  be  molested." 

After  a  moment's  thought,  he  assented. 

"I  believe  you  are  right,  M.  le  Vicomte," 
he  said  slowly,  "although  I  think  it  possible 
to  reach  the  Kremlin,  the  risk  with  Zenai'de 
with  me  is  double,  and  it  is  hard  to  tell  to 
what  lengths  they  will  go.  My  daughter  and 
I  will  therefore  gladly  accept  your  invitation, 
M.  de  Brousson,"  he  added,  glancing  at  me 


324  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

with  keenly  observant  eyes,  and  the  shadow  of 
a  smile  about  his  lips. 

"  No  more  welcome  guests  will  ever  cross  my 
threshold,  monsieur,"  I  said  warmly,  feeling 
the  blood  rise  on  my  cheek  at  his  tone,  and 
noticing,  too,  Zena'fde's  embarrassed  eyes. 

We  were  walking  rapidly,  for  there  was  no 
time  to  loiter,  and  we  went  by  the  lanes  and 
alleys,  making  a  detour  to  avoid  a  party  of 
rioters.  On  the  way,  Ramodanofsky  questioned 
Zena'fde  about  the  cause  of  our  return  to  his 
house.  I  helped  her  to  explain  the  circum- 
stances of  the  escape,  and  our  search  for 
Mademoiselle  Eudoxie. 

"She  is  safe,"  Ramodanofsky  said.  "I 
found  how  matters  were  turning,  and  sent  her 
to  the  Kremlin ;  she  is  under  the  protection  of 
Sophia." 

After  a  moment,  he  turned  to  me  with  more 
emotion  in  his  face  than  I  had  ever  seen  there 
before. 

"It  is  to  you,  then,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  he 
said,  "that  I  owe  my  daughter's  life,  as  well 
as  my  own.  I  will  not  forget  the  debt" 

Zenai'de  was  on  his  other  side,  but  she 
glanced  across  at  me,  and,  for  the  first  time  on 
that  terrible  day,  a  smile  shone  in  tier  eyes.  I 
think  that  he  saw  the  look  and  read  it,  for  he 


MICHAEL'S  REVENGE.  325 

was  a  keen  observer;  and  I  saw  his  expression 
change  to  one  of  deep  gravity.  Walking 
rapidly,  it  was  not  long  before  we  reached  my 
own  door,  and  Pierrot,  taking  the  lead,  ushered 
us  in.  I  conducted  Z^naide  and  her  father  to 
my  sitting-room,  and  then  went  to  order  some 
food,  for  I  was  hungry  myself,  and  felt  sure  that 
Ze"nai'de  must  be  in  need  of  some  refreshment,  if 
she  could  eat  at  all  after  our  dreadful  experience. 
Going  to  the  lower  hall,  I  called  Pierrot,  and 
gave  him  my  orders  to  serve  us  as  dainty  a  meal 
as  he  could  with  the  means  at  hand.  After  con- 
cluding my  instructions,  I  turned  to  go  back  to 
my  guests ;  but  seeing  the  closed  door  at  the  end 
of  the  hall,  suddenly  remembered  Polotsky.  It 
occurred  to  me  in  a  flash  that  the  man  must  be 
suffering  if  he  had  been  forgotten  there,  and  I 
went  rapidly  down  the  hall.  My  hand  was  on 
the  latch,  when  Pierrot  overtook  me  and  plucked 
my  sleeve. 

"  Do  not  go  in  there,  M.  le  Vicomte ! "  he 
exclaimed,  in  a  strange  voice. 

I  looked  around  at  him  angrily;  he  did  not 
attempt  such  interference  as  a  rule.  The  fel- 
low's honest  face  was  pale,  and  as  full  of  horror 
as  if  he  had  seen  a  specter. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  knave?"  I 
asked,  half  angry,  half  amused,  for  there  was 


326  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

something  in  the  frightened  look  on  his  usually 
stolid  face  which  was  absurd.  "Have  you 
attended  to  the  wretch  in  here,  or  have  you  for- 
gotten, and  don't  want  me  to  know  it?  " 

He  still  held  my  sleeve,  staring  at  the  door 
as  if  he  expected  Satan  to  appear. 

"It  doesn't  matter,  my  lord,"  he  replied,  in 
a  low  voice,  "  whether  he  is  forgotten  or  not. 
He  will  never  need  any  attention,  except  from 
the  grave-digger." 

I  made  an  attempt  to  open  the  door,  but  he 
still  held  me  back. 

"How  did  it  happen?"  I  asked  sharply. 
"Did  he  kill  himself,  or  did  —  " 

I  stopped  ;  I  divined  the  truth,  —  Michael  had 
wreaked  his  revenge,  I  saw  it  in  my  man's  face. 

"You  rogue,  you!"  I  exclaimed.  "I  ordered 
you  to  keep  the  fellow  safe." 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  Pierrot  replied,  "you 
remember  that  I  went  to  find  you,  believing 
your  life  to  be  in  peril ;  when  you  sent  me  back 
I  was  too  late.  That  Russian  devil  had  accom- 
plished his  revenge  and  gone.  I  have  not  seen 
him  since.  The  man  was  quite  dead  when  I 
returned.  It  is  not  worth  while  to  look  at 
him.  It  makes  me  sick." 

And  the  poor  fellow  turned  away  shuddering 
as  I  opened  the  door.  The  sight  within  turned 


MICHAEL'S  REVENGE.  327 

my  stomach.  There  was  a  beam  across  the 
room,  a  little  below  the  ceiling;  and  from  this 
hung  the  corpse  of  Polotsky,  suspended  by  a 
rope  about  his  neck.  A  glance  sufficed  to  tell 
me  what  had  happened.  The  fire  had  evidently 
been  raked  down  to  a  bed  of  coals,  and  the 
poker  lay  near  at  hand.  The  feet  of  the  corpse 
were  blackened,  and  both  eyes  had  been  put  out. 
He  had  been  tortured  into  eternity.  I  went 
out  and  shut  the  door,  as  sickened  as  Pierrot. 
This  was  a  Russian  vengeance.  How  bitter 
must  have  been  the  wrongs  that  had  roused 
such  hatred  as  this !  I  walked  up  and  down 
the  hall  for  a  while,  blaming  myself  for  having 
left  the  wretch  bound  and  helpless  in  my  house. 
I  did  not  regret  his  death  nor  pity  him,  but 
I  revolted  at  the  barbaric  brutality  visited 
upon  a  human  being,  and  under  my  roof.  I 
thought  of  the  boyar  in  the  upper  room,  and 
wondered  how  he  would  regard  it,  reflecting, 
however,  that  he  was  a  hard  man  and  had 
tasted  the  bitter  suffering  of  exile  and  impris- 
onment, meted  out  by  his  own  brother  and  this 
dead  man.  It  was  not  likely  that  he  would 
feel  either  pity  or  remorse.  I  knew  that  the 
Tartar  was  close  under  the  skin  of  that  stern- 
faced  man,  and  it  seemed  to  me  almost  impos- 
sible that  he  could  be  Z6nai'de's  father.  Her 


328  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

uncle,  with  all  his  fierce  and  evil  traits,  had 
possessed  a  grace  of  manner  entirely  foreign  to 
Feodor. 

It  was  some  time  before  I  could  recover  my 
equanimity  sufficiently  to  go  up  to  my  guests. 
The  horror  of  that  lower  room  was  possessing 
me  almost  as  strongly  as  it  did  Pierrot.  I  felt 
too  that  I  ought  to  leave  the  strangely  reunited 
father  and  daughter  together,  to  give  them  an 
opportunity  to  realize  their  relation  and  under- 
stand each  other.  And  it  was  not  until  supper 
was  ready  that  I  entered  the  room  to  summon 
them  to  join  me. 

I  found  them  sitting  side  by  side,  the  boyar 
holding  his  daughter's  hand  and  a  new  look  on 
his  rugged  face,  while  in  Zenalde's  I  saw  the 
dawn  of  a  beautiful  affection,  which  stirred  a 
feeling  almost  of  jealousy  in  my  breast.  She 
told  me  afterwards  that  he  had  cast  aside  his 
stern  manner,  and  told  her  briefly  but  tenderly 
the  story  of  his  short  married  life,  and  of  her 
mother  as  a  beautiful  girl  in  France ;  of  their 
love  for  each  other,  and  their  happiness  in  their 
little  girl.  He  spoke  with  great  feeling  of  his 
young  wife's  death  and  his  own  hard  fate,  and 
touched  lightly  and  with  much  reserve  on  his 
half-brother's  share  in  that  past.  In  that  hour  of 
confidence  Zdnaifde  forgot  her  first  impression 


MICHAEL'S  REVENGE.  329 

of  the  stern  boyar,  awaking  to  a  new  feeling  of 
thankfulness  that  she  was  no  longer  an  orphan. 

I  saw,  as  soon  as  I  looked  at  them,  that  she 
did  not  now  shrink  from  him  as  a  stranger  with 
perhaps  all  his  brother's  evil  characteristics. 
There  was  something  almost  solemn  in  the 
picture  which  they  made,  the  scarred  and 
weather-beaten  father  and  the  young  daughter, 
whose  beauty  was  peculiarly  pure  and  delicate, 
like  that  of  some  unsoiled  white  flower.  At 
my  entrance,  the  boyar  rose  and  thanked  me 
again  for  rescuing  his  daughter,  and  there  was 
a  new  and  deep  emotion  in  his  voice,  and  his 
manner  was  much  softened. 

We  were  at  supper,  when  I  heard  a  voice  at 
the  door,  and  presently  Pierrot  returned  with 
a  troubled  face.  Fearing  something  that  might 
alarm  Z^naide,  I  did  not  question  him  until 
afterwards,  and  then  he  told  me  that  it  was  one 
of  Von  Gaden's  servants.  The  poor  fellow  had 
come  to  me  for  protection,  after  hiding  all  day. 
The  rioters  had  returned  a  second  time  and 
searched  the  doctor's  house  and  his  partner's, 
and  finding  Madame  von  Gaden,  dragged  her 
away  with  them.  Von  Gaden  himself  had  not 
yet  been  taken ;  but  pursuit  was  hot,  for  they 
believed  that  he  had  poisoned  the  late  czar,  and 
nothing  but  his  blood  would  satisfy  them. 


i 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

MADAME  VON   GADEN. 

FOR  days  it  was  impossible  for  Ze"naide  to 
leave  the  house  with  safety.  The  Kremlin  was 
virtually  in  the  possession  of  the  Streltsi,  and 
every  gate  strongly  guarded.  The  scenes  of 
blood  did  not  end  with  the  first  day.  The 
czarina's  brother,  Peter  Naryshkin,  had  been 
found  in  a  house  across  the  Moskva  and  brutally 
murdered,  and  they  were  clamoring  for  the  life 
of  Ivan  Naryshkin  and  Dr.  von  Gaden.  The 
Departments  of  Justice  and  Serfage  had  been 
attacked  by  the  mob  and  rifled  of  their  con- 
tents, the  papers  strewn  tq  the  winds,  for  it 
pleased  the  caprice  of  the  soldiers  to  declare 
the  people  free.  But  after  the  first  day,  the 
leaders  had  checked  the  impetuosity  of  their 
men,  and  but  few  private  houses  were  molested, 
and  general  pillage  was  not  allowed.  It  was 
distinctly  a  mob  of  soldiers,  and  there  was  a 
certain  discipline  even  in  their  riot.  But  as 
yet  they  did  not  permit  the  burial  of  the  hor- 


MADAME    VON  GAD  EN.  331 

ribly  mutilated  bodies  which  had  been  lying  in 
the  Red  Place  since  the  morning  of  May  25th, 
and  the  czarina  had  to  submit  to  the  humilia- 
tion of  allowing  her  guardian's  dismembered 
remains  to  lie  exposed  in  the  public  square. 

Ramodanofsky  went  out  freely  in  his  charac- 
ter of  Peter  Lykof.  He  possessed  considerable 
influence  with  the  Streltsi,  and  had  succeeded 
in  completely  concealing  his  relations  with  the 
hated  nobility.  It  occurred  to  me  that  if  the 
truth  should  be  discovered  at  an  unfavorable 
moment,  he  might  be  treated  by  the  soldiers 
as  a  traitor,  and  even  a  spy.  The  event  justi- 
fied my  fears.  I  had  been  to  the  Kremlin  and 
seen  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie,  assuring  her  of 
Zenaide's  safety;  Mademoiselle  and  Madame 
von  Gaden  were  concealed  in  the  private 
apartments  of  the  young  Czarina  Martha,  the 
widow  of  Feodor,  Sophia  having  rescued  Von 
Gaden 's  wife  from  the  mob,  and  hidden  her 
in  her  sister-in-law's  room.  Meanwhile,  a 
curious  change  had  taken  place  in  affairs  of 
state.  The  young  Czar  Peter  had  been  virtu- 
ally deposed,  and  the  czarina  dowager,  broken 
down  with  grief  and  trouble,  made  but  a 
feeble  resistance.  I  was  shocked  to  see  the 
change  in  her;  she  seemed  utterly  unnerved 
and  unable  to  cope  with  the  situation,  while 


332  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

the  Czarevna  Sophia  was  making  all  the  ap- 
pointments, filling  the  vacancies  caused  by 
death,  and  selecting  her  own  councillors.  All 
the  woman's  shrewdness  and  ability  showed  in 
the  crisis.  While  she  pretended  to  lament  the 
atrocities  of  the  riot,  she  was  quick  to  profit  by 
the  opportunities  they  made  for  her  success. 
She  had  acquired  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
public  affairs  during  the  illness  of  her  brother, 
the  Czar  Feodor,  when  she  had,  in  many  in- 
stances, acted  for  him,  and  she  showed  her 
ability  now  in  the  selection  of  her  advisers, 
Prince  Basil  Galitsyn,  of  course,  standing  fore- 
most in  her  regard.  It  was  patent  to  all  that 
she  was  aiming  at  the  regency,  and  we  suspected 
at  the  crown,  although  she  screened  her  motives 
behind  her  apparent  affection  for  her  blind 
brother,  the  Czarevitch  Ivan.  Peter's  election 
being  discredited,  it  was  impossible  for  affairs 
to  remain  on  their  present  footing.  The  two 
young  princes  would  have  to  reign  jointly,  and 
that  meant  the  regency  of  Sophia  Alexeievna. 
It  was  an  evil  hour  for  the  Naryshkins,  and  the 
prospects  of  the  young  Peter  never  looked  more 
gloomy.  Glancing  back  upon  those  days  of 
blood,  it  seems  impossible  that  no  one  should 
have  foreseen  the  advent  of  the  great  czar ;  that 
every  eye  was  absorbed  by  the  subtlety  of  the 


MADAME    VON  GADEN.  333 

clever  czarevna,  never  dreaming  of  the  day  of 
reckoning,  when  Peter  should  reclaim  his  own. 

It  was  on  the  evening  of  the  third  day,  when 
I  had  returned  from  the  Kremlin,  that  Pierrot, 
who  had  been  on  duty  constantly  to  guard 
Zenai'de,  answered  a  gentle  summons  at  the 
side  door.  I  was  in  the  lower  hall  at  the  time, 
and  saw  him  admit  two  closely  veiled  women, 
followed  by  a  young  fellow,  whom  I  recognized 
as  one  of  the  attendants  of  the  imperial  house- 
hold. The  foremost  female  figure  was  undoubt- 
edly Mademoiselle  Eudoxie. 

"This  was  a  risk,  mademoiselle,"  I  said 
smiling,  as  I  held  out  my  hand,  at  the  same 
time  looking  beyond  her  at  the  veiled  figure, 
which  I  did  not  know. 

"I  could  not  stay  there  any  longer,"  made- 
moiselle exclaimed  with  a  shudder.  "  It  is  too 
horrible.  I  seem  to  hear  the  shrieks  of  those 
poor  murdered  creatures  all  the  time.  Besides, 
I  wanted  to  be  with  Zenai'de ;  I  am  not  happy 
when  I  do  not  know  that  she  is  safe;  and 
madame  wanted  to  see  you." 

This  surprised  me,  and  I  glanced  inquiringly 
at  the  muffled  form.  Seeing  my  look,  the 
stranger  raised  her  veil,  and  I  saw  the  face  of 
Madame  von  Gaden,  changed  as  I  have  scarcely 
ever  seen  a  woman's  face  change  in  a  few  days. 


334  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

She  looked  old  with  her  pallor  and  the  dark 
rings  under  her  eyes.  I  divined  her  errand 
in  a  moment,  and  sending  mademoiselle  to 
Zenaide,  turned  to  the  poor  woman  with  as 
gentle  a  manner  as  I  could  command. 

"  Have  you  seen  him  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  broken 
voice;  "have  you  heard  anything?" 

Very  tenderly  I  told  her  of  my  parting  with 
her  husband  after  our  escape  from  his  house. 

"And  you  have  never  seen  him  since?"  she 
exclaimed,  pressing  her  hand  to  her  heart. 
"Where  can  he  be?" 

"Far  away,  I  trust,  madame,"  I  replied 
gravely.  "  Let  us  not  wish  to  see  him  until 
this  frenzy  is  over.  It  is  almost  spent ;  it  can- 
not last  a  great  while  now." 

She  shook  her  head.  "Alas!"  she  said, 
"they  will  not  be  satisfied  until  they  have  his 
blood.  I  thought  that  they  would  have  mine 
when  they  dragged  me  through  the  streets  to 
the  Kremlin.  Nothing  saved  me  but  Sophia 
and  the  young  Czarina  Martha ;  she  concealed 
me  in  her  own  room  until  now,  when  I  could 
endure  it  no  longer.  Poor  Jan  Gutmensch 
was  killed,  in  spite  of  the  intercession  of  the 
princesses,  you  know,  M.  le  Vicomte  ?  " 

"Let  us  hope  that  your  good  husband  has 
escaped  from  Moscow,"  I  said,  reassuringly. 


MADAME    VON  GAD  EN.  335 

"I  pray  so,"  the  poor  woman  replied  brok- 
enly. "But  I  hear  their  howls  for  his  hlood 
all  the  time.  They  were  like  the  cries  of 
wolves,  M.  de  Brousson;  they  have  less  pity 
than  the  beasts." 

"Yet,  be  of  good  cheer,  madame,"  I  said 
soothingly.  "Your  husband  has  evaded  them 
so  long,  let  us  hope  that  he  may  still  succeed. 
The  hottest  pursuit  grows  tardy  after  a  while, 
and  their  patience  will  be  soon  exhausted." 

She  was  eager  enough  to  snatch  at  a  straw  of 
comfort,  and  quieted  down  under  my  soothing 
remonstrance.  Presently  she  went  up  with  me, 
and  I  sent  mademoiselle  and  Zena'ide  to  com- 
fort her.  In  a  great  degree  I  shared  her  anx- 
iety, for  the  mob  had  made  a  point  from  the 
first  to  demand  the  death  of  Von  Gaden.  It 
seemed  improbable  that  the  Jew  could  success- 
fully elude  them,  when  not  even  the  Czarina 
Natalia  could  protect  her  own  brothers. 

I  went  down  again  to  find  Pierrot,  hoping  to 
hear  some  reassuring  tidings;  but  before  I 
called  him,  I  heard  a  light  step  on  the  stair, 
and  Zenaide  was  looking  down  upon  me,  her 
lovely  face  full  of  anxiety. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  I  exclaimed  softly,  reach- 
ing up  until  I  touched  her  hand  upon  the 
balustrade. 


336  ON   THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

"Has  my  father  come  yet,  Philippe?"  she 
asked.  "  I  feel  sure  that  he  will  have  tidings 
for  this  poor  woman.  I  cannot  bear  to  see  her 
so  broken  down." 

"Alas,  ZenaYde!"  I  replied  gravely,  "any 
news  may  be  evil  for  her.  They  have  never 
ceased  to  search  for  poor  Von  Gaden,  and  I  have 
really  little  hope  of  his  escape.  It  seems  a 
miracle  that  he  has  avoided  them  so  long." 

"The  wretches!"  she  exclaimed,  the  color 
mounting  in  her  cheeks.  "If  I  were  czarina 
of  all  the  Russias  — "  she  paused,  seeing  a 
smile  in  my  eyes. 

"My  love,"  I  said  smiling,  "what  would 
become  of  me  ?  I  felt  abashed  when  I  told  the 
Boyar  Ramodanofsky  that  I  loved  his  daughter, 
and  he  has  not  replied  to  me  yet.  How  could 
I  sue  for  the  white  hand  of  an  empress  ? " 

She  looked  at  me  with  her  head  a  little  on 
one  side. 

"  If  I  were  an  empress,  M.  le  Vicomte  "  — 
she  began,  but  the  opening  of  the  outer  door 
arrested  the  laughing  words  upon  her  lips,  and 
we  both  turned  startled  glances  at  the  stern 
countenance  of  the  boyar.  His  keen  eyes 
searched  us  for  a  moment,  but  he  closed  the 
door  and  advanced  with  a  sober  face. 

"You   have    evil    tidings,    father,"    Zenaide 


MADAME    VON  GADEN.  337 

exclaimed,  her  quick  eye  reading  his  clouded 
brow. 

"Not  for  you,  my  child,"  he  replied  quietly; 
"  but  a  sad  thing  has  happened.  We  have  lost 
a  friend,"  he  added,  turning  to  me. 

"Von  Gaden?  "  I  exclaimed  at  once. 

The  boyar  bowed  his  head  in  assent. 

"  Alas ! "  exclaimed  Z6naide,  "  is  he  slain  ? " 

"  He  and  Ivan  Naryshkin  were  taken  to-day," 
Ramodanofsky  replied.  "  The  Streltsi  came  to 
the  palace  and  demanded  Ivan  Naryshkin ;  the 
czarina  resisted,  until  Sophia  told  her  that  his 
life  must  be  sacrificed  to  save  the  others.  He 
received  the  eucharist  in  the  Church  of  the 
Savior  beyond  the  Wicket,  and  Sophia  gave 
him  an  image  of  the  Virgin  to  hold.  Poor 
Natalia  Kirilovna  went  with  him  to  the  Golden 
Wicket,  and  there  the  Streltsi  seized  him  and 
insulted  him  before  her  eyes.  Meanwhile,  Von 
Gaden  had  been  arrested  in  disguise,  begging 
for  food ;  he  has  been  three  days  in  the  woods 
without  it.  He  and  Naryshkin  were  both  taken 
to  the  Constantine  torture-room  and  subjected 
to  excruciating  agony.  Ivan  uttered  not  a  word, 
but  Von  Gaden  had  already  endured  too  much, 
and  he  made  some  sort  of  confession,  the  wild 
talk  of  a  man  in  death  agony.  It  availed  noth- 
ing. They  were  dragged  to  the  Red  Place  and 


338  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

lifted  on  the  points  of  the  rioters'  spears. 
Then  their  hands  and  feet  were  cut  off,  their 
bodies  chopped  in  pieces  and  trampled  in  the 
dirt.  Thus  perished  a  benevolent  physician. " 

"His  poor  wife!"  cried  Zenaide;  "who  can 
tell  her?.  She  is  here,  father,"  she  added; 
"she  came  to  hear  some  tidings  of  him." 

"You  will  have  to  tell  her,  Ze"na'ide,"  her 
father  said,  gravely. 

At  that  moment  we  heard  a  step  upon  the 
stair,  and  looking  up,  saw  madame  standing  just: 
above  us.  Her  robe  was  black,  and  the  mantle 
about  her  head,  and  out  of  its  shrouding  folds 
showed  a  face  like  that  of  a  corpse. 

"  She  need  not  tell  me,"  she  said  in  a  strange 
wild  voice;  "I  heard  it  all.  Let  me  die  too! 
Let  me  go  out  and  tear  these  ruffians  with  my 
hands  and  die  battling  with  them !  May  they 
be  torn  limb  from  limb,  and  their  wives  and 
children  left  desolate,  as  I  am  desolate ! " 

She  threw  her  hands  over  her  head  with  a 
frantic  gesture  as  she  invoked  the  wrath  of 
Heaven.  Then  she  came  down,  her  eyes  staring 
out  of  her  white  face,  yet  seeming  not  to  see 
us,  or  anything  but  the  door.  We  thought  her 
mad,  and  no  doubt  for  the  moment  she  was. 
Ramodanofsky,  springing  forward,  caught  her 
and  held  her  back.  She  shrieked  aloud  and 


MADAME   VON  GADEN.  339 

struck  at  him  with  her  fists,  but  he  held  her  in 
a  grip  of  iron.  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  came 
running  at  the  sound  of  the  screams,  and  Pierrot 
and  the  man  who  had  attended  her  from  the 
Kremlin.  But  in  a  moment  it  was  over,  and 
she  fell  across  the  boyar's  arm  in  a  deathlike 
swoon,  the  foam  upon  her  lips.  Very  gently 
he  lifted  her  and  carried  her  up  the  stairs,  fol- 
lowed by  Ze"nai"de  and  mademoiselle,  who  were 
eager  to  minister  to  the  poor,  afflicted  creature, 
so  horribly  bereaved. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

A  DESPERATE   DEFENSE. 

I  STOOD  in  the  lower  hall  with  the  two  men. 
Pierrot  addressed  me  at  once  in  French. 

"  I  have  been  talking  with  this  fellow,  M. 
le  Vicomte,"  he  said,  in  his  deliberate  way, 
"and  I  find  that  we  may  be  in  some  danger. 
He  belongs  to  the  household  of  the  czarevna, 
and  knows  a  number  of  the  soldiers.  A  report 
has  spread  that  the  Boyar  Ramodanofsky  is 
here,  and  they  confuse  this  gentleman  above 
stairs  with  the  dead  man.  They  never  had  any 
proof  of  the  other's  death,  and  this  man  seems 
to  think  that  they  are  still  thirsty  for  his  blood. 
Then  they  have  learned  that  you  were  a  friend 
of  Dr.  von  Gaden's,  and  that  it  was  you  who 
interfered  to  save  mademoiselle." 

I  put  a  few  questions  in  Russian  to  the  court 
usher,  and  found  that  Pierrot  had  not  exagger- 
ated. If  the  rumors  were  true,  the  situation 
was  serious ;  and  if  it  was  even  suspected  that 
Madame  von  Gaden  was  here,  it  might  precipi- 


A   DESPERATE  DEFENSE.  341 

tate  an  attack  more  determined  than  that  on  the 
Ramodanofsky  house.  I  was  sorely  perplexed. 
It  was  at  best  extremely  perilous  to  take  the 
women  through  the  streets,  and  at  that  hour, 
altogether  too  great  a  risk.  Yet,  if  the  house 
should  be  attacked,  there  would  be  no  way  of 
defending  it.  My  nationality  would  not  save 
me.  I  knew  that  the  Danish  resident,  Butenant 
von  Rosenbusch,  had  hardly  escaped  with  his 
life,  and  he  had  done  nothing  to  provoke  the 
fury  of  the  mob.  If  Ramodanof sky's  identity 
was  known,  it  would  ruin  rather  than  help  us. 
However,  no  remedy  suggested  itself,  and  I 
saw  no  resource  but  to  abide  our  fate  and  hope 
for  the  best.  Sophia  was  beginning  to  gain 
control,  and  we  could  count  upon  her  friendship 
and  that  of  Galitsyn.  Ramodanofsky  had  told 
me  that  a  call  would  be  issued  for  a  general 
council  for  the  purpose  of  legally  electing  Ivan 
and  Peter  czars  of  all  the  Russias,  and  declar- 
ing Sophia  Alexeievna  regent.  This  was  the 
beginning,  and  a  vigorous  government  once 
organized  under  the  czarevna,  I  had  no  doubt 
that  she  could  control  the  insurrection,  although 
the  indemnity  demanded  by  the  Streltsi  was 
likely  to  impoverish  the  imperial  exchequer. 

I  told  Pierrot  to  secure  the  house  carefully, 
and  use  all  precaution,  and  then  went  to  hear 


342  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE, 

tidings  of  madame's  condition.  Mademoiselle 
Eudoxie  came  out  of  the  room  where  they  had 
carried  her,  and  told  the  boyar  and  me  that 
she  had  recovered  consciousness,  and  seemed 
grateful  for  their  care;  clinging  to  Zenaifde 
for  consolation,  since  some  words  of  hers  had 
brought  the  relief  of  tears  to  the  poor,  half- 
crazed  woman. 

Ramodanofsky  and  I  were  left  alone,  and  I 
was  bringing  another  light  to  put  on  the  table, 
when  he  suddenly  rose  and  went  to  the  window. 
I  looked  at  him  in  astonishment,  for  he  was  not 
a  man  of  rapid  movements.  After  a  glance 
out,  he  silently  signaled  to  me  to  join  him. 
As  I  approached,  he  stood  aside  and  pointed 
down  into  the  street.  A  strange  spectacle  met 
my  astonished  gaze.  In  the  darkness,  I  could 
just  distinguish  the  crowd  of  people  that  were 
silently  forming  in  a  circle  about  the  house,  as 
if  in  fear  of  being  disappointed  of  their  antici- 
pated prey.  The  boyar  and  I  looked  at  each 
other  in  silence ;  I  saw  the  fire  of  the  warrior 
burning  in  his  eyes,  but  my  thoughts  were  all 
for  the  three  helpless  women  in  the  inner 
room. 

"  You  must  keep  them  here,  M.  Ramodanof- 
sky," I  said  quickly,  "until  I  send  the  man  be- 
low to  the  Kremlin  for  help  if  it  can  be  had." 


A   DESPERATE  DEFENCE.  343 

"  I  fear  I  cannot  keep  them  now,"  he  rejoined 
with  perfect  composure,  although  I  saw  his  face 
twitch ;  "  they  suspect  that  I  am  not  one  of 
them.  If  they  think  me  a  traitor  to  their  cause, " 
he  laughed  harshly,  "an  hour  from  now  you 
will  not  recognize  the  fragments  of  my 
remains." 

"Mafoif"  I  cried  passionately,  "how  can 
you  jest  ?  Your  daughter,  man,  your  daughter ! " 

A  violent  emotion  convulsed  his  features. 

"I  was  mad  to  come  here  to-night/'  he  said, 
"stark,  staring  mad,"  and  with  that  he  went 
to  the  window,  calling  out  to  them  that  he  must 
speak. 

I  did  not  pause  to  hear  more,  but  rushed 
down  the  stairs  just  as  a  thundering  blow  fell 
on  the  door,  summoning  us  to  surrender.  Pier- 
rot and  the  other  man  were  in  the  hall,  taken 
by  surprise. 

"  Quick !  "  I  cried,  "  the  back  door !  Pierrot, 
watch  here  and  defend  the  way,  and  you,"  I 
said  to  the  other,  "must  get  out  in  the  alley 
and  run  to  the  Kremlin.  Tell  the  Czarevna 
Sophia  that  these  hounds  will  murder  the  Boyar 
Feodor  Sergheievitch  Ramodanofsky  and  the 
Vicomte  de  Brousson." 

He  was  glad  enough  to  look  for  an  escape,  and 
ran  with  me  through  the  kitchen.  The  door 


344  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

was  secured  by  two  stout  wooden  bars,  and  I 
had  lifted  one  from  its  sockets  and  had  my  hand 
on  the  other,  when  a  sudden  uproar  without 
told  me  that  it  was  too  late.  I  replaced  the 
bar,  surrendering  that  last  hope  with  a  sickened 
heart.  Then  I  ran  back  into  the  hall,  just  in 
time  to  see  the  outer  door  yield  and  the  rioters 
pour  into  the  entry.  Pierrot  was  borne  back 
into  a  lower  room,  and  the  way  was  unob- 
structed. With  a  yell  of  triumph,  they  came 
on.  The  stairs  were  high  and  narrow,  and  with 
a  bound  I  reached  them,  and  drawing  my  pistol, 
stood  across  their  path.  For  an  instant  the  tide 
was  stayed,  and  the  ringleaders  halted ;  but  the 
crowd  behind,  pushing  into  the  narrow  hall, 
sent  them  forward  again.  As  they  came  up  the 
first  steps  I  fired  twice,  and  two  ruffians  falling 
on  top  of  each  other,  there  was  another  pause. 
This  gave  me  time  to  draw  my  sword ;  in  an- 
other moment  one  of  the  leaders  fell  before  me. 
Few  men  in  France  cared  to  measure  swords 
with  me,  and  certainly  few  would  have  dared 
upon  that  narrow  stair.  The  rioters  began  to 
howl  like  baffled  animals,  and  I  kept  the  stair, 
but  it  could  not  be  for  long.  I  heard  Ramo- 
danofsky  coming,  and  he  joined  me;  but  the 
sight  of  him  drove  them  beyond  the  limit  of 
fear. 


A  DESPERATE  DEFENSE.  345 

"Traitor!"  they  bellowed;  "a  liar!  a  dis- 
guised aristocrat !  down  with  him  !  " 

And  they  poured  up  the  staircase  until  it 
shook  beneath  their  weight.  I  fought  in  that 
moment  as  I  never  fought  before,  and  two  more 
devils  fell,  before  a  blow  from  a  spear  stunned 
me,  and  I  was  borne  down  and  trampled  under 
foot.  All  the  rest  was  lost  in  the  blackness  of 
unconsciousness. 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

A   SOLEMN   BETROTHAL. 

WHEN  I  came  to  myself  again,  I  was  lying  on 
a  couch,  and  the  first  eyes  that  I  met  were  the 
tearful  ones  of  Zenaide,  for  she  was  standing 
beside  me.  For  the  moment,  my  mind  was  too 
confused  to  recall  anything  that  had  happened, 
and  I  looked  wonderingly  from  her  face  to  Pier- 
rot, who  stood  at  the  foot  of  my  couch,  his  head 
tied  up  so  that  one  eye  was  obscured.  Then, 
as  through  a  mist,  I  saw  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie 
holding  a  bandage,  while  a  strange  man  finished 
binding  my  arm. 

"Where  am  I?"  I  murmured  faintly,  and  at 
the  moment,  mademoiselle  standing  back,  I  saw 
the  short,  ill-proportioned  figure  and  large  head 
of  the  great  czarevna.  Then  my  mind  cleared, 
and  I  glanced  about  me,  and  beheld  the  death- 
like face  of  Ramodanofsky.  He  was  stretched 
upon  another  couch,  and  even  in  my  first  bewil- 


A  SOLEMN  BETROTHAL.  347 

derment,  I  knew  that  he  was  dying.  Zenaide 
was  standing  between  us,  her  sweet  face  full  of 
pain.  Prince  Galitsyn  sat  on  the  other  side  of 
the  boyar,  holding  his  hand  and  listening  to 
him.  The  full  recollection  of  the  horrible  scene 
swept  over  me,  and  I  looked  up  into  Z6naide's 
blue  eyes. 

"  How  were  you  saved  ?  "  I  asked. 

The  czarevna  answered  me.  "  Tidings  came 
to  us,  M.  le  Vicomte,"  she  said,  "and  Prince 
Galitsyn  arrived  here  in  time  to  beat  back  the 
rabble  and  save  Zenaide  Feodorovna  and  the 
other  women.  It  was  a  band  of  Streltsi  infuri- 
ated because  Ramodanofsky  had  deceived  them 
into  believing  him  to  be  one  of  themselves ;  they 
fancied  that  he  had  been  playing  the  part  of  a 
spy." 

"And  your  Highness  came  also?"  I  said, 
wondering. 

"I  came  to  protect  you,  M.  le  Vicomte,  as 
the  envoy  of  the  King  of  France,"  she  replied. 

At  the  sound  of  my  voice,  Ramodanofsky 
turned  his  eyes  in  our  direction,  and  I  heard 
him  ask  the  physician  if  I  would  recover,  re- 
ceiving an  affirmative  answer. 

Sophia  turned  to  him  now,  with  an  unusual 
kindness  in  her  manner. 

"You  must   recover  also,   Feodor  Sergheie- 


348  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

vitch,"  she  said  cheerfully;  "we  cannot  afford 
to  lose  a  newly-found  subject." 

The  boyar  looked  at  her  sadly,  and  evidently 
made  a  strong  effort  to  speak. 

"It  is  too  late,  your  highness,"  he  said; 
"my  life  was  not  worth  much  at  best,  for  it  has 
been  spent  in  prison  and  in  exile  until  my 
strength  was  broken  and  my  hopes  were  dashed 
forever.  I  had  but  the  fragment  to  offer  you, 
and  that  has  been  sacrificed." 

Sophia's  face  changed.  She  showed,  in  that 
moment,  more  feeling  than  I  had  believed  that 
she  possessed. 

"It  is  my  regret,  Feodor  Sergheievitch, "  she 
said  kindly,  "that  you  should  have  suffered 
this  injustice;  it  was  my  intention  to  make 
some  reparation." 

He  looked  at  her  intently,  and  those  stern 
eyes  of  his  glowed  in  his  white  face. 

"  Sophia  Alexeievna,"  he  said  solemnly,  "you 
are  called  to  a  high  trust,  and  I  charge  you, 
never  send  a  man  to  exile  or  to  prison  without 
being  absolutely  convinced  of  his  guilt.  It  is 
a  cruel  thing  —  a  cruel  thing.  I  look  back  upon 
my  blasted  life  and  see  no  light." 

He  spoke  with  passionate  feeling,  and  Galit- 
syn,  bending  over,  touched  his  hand  with  mute 
sympathy.  Zenaide  was  kneeling  beside  the 


A-  SOLEMN  BETROTHAL.  349 

couch,  her  face  hidden  in  his  robe.  The  dying 
man  looked  down  upon  her  golden  head,  and  an 
expression  of  pain  crossed  his  features;  then 
looking  up,  his  eyes  met  mine. 

"M.  le  Vicomte,"  he  said,  his  voice  very 
weak  now,  "I  remember  your  suit,  and  with 
the  czarevna's  permission  I  will  intrust  my 
daughter  to  your  keeping." 

I  saw  Sophia  start,  and  Galitsyn  looked  up 
quickly.  I  was  stretched  there  helpless,  unable 
to  rise,  but  I  looked  back  at  the  boyar. 

"I  will  prove  worthy  of  your  trust,  so  help 
me  Heaven ! "  I  said  firmly. 

Ramodanofsky  read  Sophia's  thoughts. 

"Gracious  lady,"  he  said,  making  a  strong 
effort  to  speak,  "I  know  that  Zenalde,  as  the 
heiress  of  my  estates,  should  be  your  ward,  her 
hand  at  your  disposal ;  but  it  is  my  desire  that 
she  shall  wed  Philippe  de  Brousson,  one  of  her 
mother's  countrymen.  He  has  signified  his 
willingness  to  accept  her  hand  without  any 
dower  but  my  wife's  estate  in  France.  In  her 
name,  I  surrender  to  the  czar  the  lands  and 
estates  in  Russia,  asking  only  your  permission 
that  she  shall  marry  as  I  desire." 

It  had  cost  him  dear  to  speak,  and  he  fell 
back  with  a  gasp.  Sophia  was  not  without 
sympathy,  and  she  was  also  keen  enough  to  see 


35O  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

the  advantage  of  the  sudden  accession  of  wealth 
in  the  impoverished  treasury.  She  laid  her 
hand  kindly  on  Zenalde's  bowed  head. 

"Rest  in  peace,  Feodor  Sergheievitch," 
she  said;  "I  will  grant  your  request.  The 
Vicomte  is  my  friend,  and  Zenaide  shall  be 
his  wife." 

"I  thank  you,"  the  dying  man  said  faintly, 
and  his  head  fell  back. 

The  physician  bent  over  him  and  adminis- 
tered a  restorative,  and  he  opened  his  eyes 
again;  but  this  time  they  sought  only  his 
daughter,  who  was  clinging  to  his  arm  and 
weeping. 

"Farewell,  Z6nai"de,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  of 
strange  tenderness,  "found  so  late  and  lost 
so  soon!  Weep  not  for  me,  my  child;  life 
has  had  little  sweetness,  and  perhaps  it  is 
best  so." 

Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  was  kneeling  at  the 
foot  of  his  couch  and  praying,  and  he  looked  at 
her  and  smiled. 

"The  end  is  near,"  he  murmured  faintly, 
looking  calmly  at  us  in  farewell;  "the  end  — 
of  a  —  broken  life  —  My  soul  —  " 

He  spoke  no  more,  and  a  moment  later, 
Prince  Galitsyn  leaned  over  him  and  made 
the  sign  of  the  cross  on  his  white  forehead. 


A   SOLEMN  BETROTHAL.  351 

The    stern    spirit    had    passed    quietly    into 
eternity. 

My  injuries  kept  me  a  prisoner  in  my  room 
during  the  weeks  that  followed.  I  was  faith- 
fully nursed  by  Mademoiselle  Eudoxie  and 
Pierrot.  Zenaide  was  under  Sophia's  protec- 
tion in  the  Kremlin.  I  saw  nothing  of  the 
scenes  of  those  exciting  days,  —  the  pacification 
of  the  Streltsi,  the  coronation  of  Peter  and 
Ivan,  and  the  declaration  of  the  regency  of 
Sophia  Alexeievna.  The  new  government  was 
installed,  and  the  city  was  comparatively  quiet 
again,  when  I  was  well  enough  to  return  to 
France.  I  was  anxious  to  claim  the  fulfillment 
of  the  regent's  promise  before  she  had  time  to 
regret  it,  and  pressed  my  affairs  to  an  early 
settlement.  One  summer  morning,  a  small 
party  assembled  in  the  Cathedral  of  St.  Michael 
the  Archangel  to  witness  my  marriage  to 
Zenaide  Feodorovna,  the  czarevna  and  Prince 
Galitsyn  representing  the  bride's  guardians. 
And  I  took  my  fair  young  wife  back  to  her 
mother's  country,  followed  by  faithful  Made- 
moiselle Eudoxie,  and  by  Pierrot,  whose  face 
was  no  longer  stolid,  but  radiant  with  joy  at 
the  thought  of  returning  to  his  own  beloved 
land,  where  we  all  found  happiness  and  repose. 


352  ON  THE  RED  STAIRCASE. 

The  flowers  in  the  old  garden  of  the  Tour  de 
Brousson  bloomed  with  a  new  beauty  to  wel- 
come the  young  mistress,  who  rejoiced  in  the 
tranquillity  of  the  chateau  with  its  terraces  and 
its  roses  glorified  by  the  sunshine  of  France. 


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